The Flight Home
by myownmind
Summary: Hotch and Reid are called back to D.C. in the middle of a case in Los Angeles. The commercial flight they're on runs into problems and crashes in the Rocky Mountains. Now they have to survive the crash and the fact that the killer may be with them.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! I know I promised to write an Emergency story next but this one wouldn't leave me alone. If I get a good response from this one I'll keep going. Hopefully someone else likes where I'm going with this!_

It was a commercial flight. That was bad enough. It was a commercial flight with a high school basketball team and all its attendants coming back from regional finals. That was even worse. It was a commercial flight filled with a high school basketball team that had won regional finals. That was by far the worse.

Sitting in his economy seat, thankful that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was between himself and the rampaging hoard, Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid tried to concentrate on the file vibrating on his lap. In his agitation, Spencer's left leg was jiggling as he tried to tune out the raucous laughter and too tall, too muscled bodies moving up and down the aisle.

"Take it easy, Reid. We'll be in D.C. in a few hours," Aaron stated, not looking up from his own file. There was nothing else to do but try to work.

"I still don't understand why we couldn't take the jet," Reid muttered quietly. He knew he sounded like a spoiled child but it had just come out.

"You know why, Reid," Aaron responded using the voice he reserved for his 5 year old son Jack when he was being impatient.

"I know, I know," Reid breathed as yet another basketball went whizzing by his head to bounce off the air plane fuselage. "Why can't the flight attendants control them?"

"I think they're been kept busy by the parents," Aaron said. While reading his report, he was also watching out of the corner of his eye as three of the fathers ordered repeatedly bottles of beer. All ready the blue collar men were too drunk to fly.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we are no longer allowed to serve you," one of the flight attendants said after the third beer. A quick nod at the Air Marshall two seats back, the woman was prepared for the violent outburst.

"What are you talking about, bitch?" the bigger of the three men demanded. His son was the most obnoxious one of the team. Apparently the apple hadn't fallen fall from the tree. Reid doubted the child had had a chance of being anything other than his father. "If I want a beer, you have to go get me a fucking beer!"

"Excuse me, sir," the Air Marshall said as he stood up to intervene. "If you do not lower your voice and stop swearing, I will have to escort you to a private room." Since 9-11, Air Marshalls had lost all sense of humour when dealing with drunks or anyone else that might cause a danger to the plane or its occupants. A small room once used for cargo had been converted into a restraining room. He wasn't going to take any chances.

"Go to hell," the large man slurred as he drunkenly took a swing at the marshal. Almost expecting the move, the tall marshal took a step back at the last second, resulting in the man missing him. The momentum of his swing sent the man stumbling into his two companions. Before he had a chance to recover, the marshal was on him. The dark haired marshal gripped the man by the shoulder and flipped him onto his stomach, a pair of zip tie handcuffs slipping easily over the man's wrists. "Come with me," he growled. "You two will join your friend if you make any more trouble."

Getting a nod of understanding from the other two men, the marshal led the loudly protesting man down the aisle toward the restraint room. The pair was closely followed by the son, who was protesting his father's innocence, and the wife. A few feet down the aisle, the marshal stopped and turned to face the duo. "You could join him too if you'd like," he stated simply.

"You can't be doing this. We're taxing paying American citizens. We have every right to free will. If that makes drinking a little too much, than we can God damn do it!" the wife shrieked, completely missing the quiet calm of the tall, dark haired man standing in front of her. The son, however, recognized the danger boiling just beneath the surface. God knew he'd seen it often enough with his dad when he'd drank too much. Luckily, that only happened once or twice a month.

"It's okay, Mom," the son said, grabbing hold of the woman's nearest arm. "We need to go sit down."

"What are you talking about?" the wife demanded as she tried to take a step toward the man. Who was he to tell them how to live their lives? Damn government.

"He's going to put us in handcuffs too if you don't sit down and shut up," the son stated as he deliberately put his body between his mom and the marshal. The last thing he wanted, despite his blustering, was for his mom to be detained as well.

"Listen to your son," the marshal instructed as he continued to lead the disgruntled drunk down the aisle.

With a great deal of coaxing, the son managed to get his mother to return to their seats. As he took his own, closest to the aisle, he glanced back toward where the marshal had taken his father but all he could see was a drawn curtain.

"Well, that was entertaining," Reid quipped. His left leg continued to jiggle. The other members of the team had been relatively oblivious to the altercation and were still joking around good naturedly.

"Mph," was Hotch's only reply. He hated to make fun of other people's misfortunes. He knew all too well how quickly a person's life could change for the worse. He continued to read his file. As distracting as the noise of the other people were, he simply tuned them out. It was a skill that any good leader learned quickly. Another vital skill was the ability to still hear the noises while cataloguing them as background or something that needed to be listened to.

Taking his boss's unspoken prompt, Reid turned back to the file. As he scanned the paperwork from the case they were heading back to D.C. to testify for, Spencer's mind wandered. The rest of their team, Garcia, Morgan, Rossi and Emily were still in Los Angles. There was a serial killer stalking the night time streets, apparently at random, killing people and then putting their bodies on display. From what they knew so far, the killer was emulating the film 'Seven' with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman. What they haven't been able to do was narrow down the list of suspects.

In the midst of this case, the prosecutor of a case they concluded three months previously had contacted Hotch, asking for him and Reid to return to D.C. to testify before the grand jury. For some reason, they were needed to testify in person, something that rarely happened, and so had had to return without the others. It frustrated the Unit Chief to no end to leave in the midst of an ongoing case. It wasn't something that he would normally allow but they also needed to make sure that the unsub from the old case was kept in jail for the rest of his natural and unnatural life.

As a result, Hotch and Reid were travelling across the country with a group of high schoolers. Reid hadn't liked his high school companions when he'd been forced to endure the outdated institution the first time around. The fact that he was no longer a twelve year old genius didn't improve his opinion of high school students.

Abandoning the paperwork, Spencer looked closer at the other people on board the plane. He really didn't need to read the files. He had an eidetic memory and knew everything contained therein. He was simply using the ruse of reading to keep from having to interact with the people around him. As he glanced up from the pages, he found a young girl of about two staring at him over the back of the next chair.

"Emily, don't bother the young man," a voice floated over the cushioned back. While Reid couldn't see the person who'd spoken, he could see the slender but strong pair of hands reach up to pull the child back down.

"It's all right," Reid said as he looked into the dark haired girl's brown eyes. She had an impish grin that won his heart instantly. It was an odd sensation for the young genius. He usually didn't like kids, any kids, except maybe Jack and Henry, J.J.'s son.

"Pretty!" the little girl cooed as she gazed back at Reid. The grin spread to a full on smile that lit up her round face.

"Emily!" the unknown voice gasped. Then a blond head appeared as Emily's mom got up on her chair to get control of her daughter. "I'm so sorry," the woman said, her cheeks burning brightly with embarrassment.

" She's fine," Reid said, his own cheeks turning a little red. Emily smiled happily at him while Aaron tried to stifle a quick laugh beside him.

"She likes boys. I'm so sorry," the mother said as she gently wrestled her child back into her seat.

"Well, Spencer, it looks like you have a fan," Aaron said, his mouth twisting in a suppressed grin.

"Be quiet," Reid responded as he turned back to the file. If he could, he would have pulled the manila file up to cover his face. He could feel his ears and cheeks burning still.

OOOO

A half hour of silence and they were flying over the Rocky Mountains. Reid distracted himself by staring out the small air plane window. He had to slouch slightly to see out of it. Again, he cursed having to leave the jet behind. He could see the landscape below beyond the rear of the wing.

As Dr. Reid watched the jagged, snow covered peaks pass by, he became aware of an odd vibration through the soles of his shoes. Alarmed, he turned to mention it to Hotch just as a loud pop drew his attention back to the window. In that instant, Reid swore he felt his stomach fall down somewhere around his knees. The engine he could see on the wing was billowing black smoke with flames snaking out behind.

"Hotch?" Reid said as he pulled his eyes away from the sight.

"Yes?" Hotch replied just as the plane leapt to the left. Then they were careening to the right. The other passengers began to scream as the ones that hadn't remained in their seats were thrown around the cabin.

"Get into your seats!" the flight attendant announced over the P.A. system once she reached the microphone. "Fasten your seat belts!"

"Oh God!" a woman several rows ahead screamed hysterically. "We're going down!"

_Ok, what do you think? Should I continue?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello! Wow! I'm truly amazed at the response to this story. I'm very glad to see that I wasn't the only one who thought it was interesting. I just really hope I don't disappoint!_

_Well, here's the next chapter. It wasn't quite as easy to write as the first one but after a little tweaking, I don't think it's too bad. Let's hope you agree._

_Thank you!_

_Susanne_

CHAPTER TWO

Holding on for dear life, the roaring of the one good engine drowning out most of the passengers, the two FBI agents looked around the cabin. Pandemonium reigned. Only a few of the passengers had been belted in. The rest were frantically trying to get back into their seats. Those few that reached them amid the pitching, swaying floor then had a major struggle to get the seat belts back around their waists and buckled shut.

The stewardess' were desperately trying to help but even they were being thrown around the cabin like rag dolls.

"What do we do?" Reid asked, his voice loud to get over the shouts and screams of the other passengers. He was trying to get away from the thoughts pounding through his mind. The statistics of surviving a plane crash in mountains with only one working engine kept burning through his thoughts.

Before Hotch had a chance to answer, the plane took a nose dive. Anything not nailed down rushed to the back of the craft, striking passengers with enough force to leave cuts and abrasions. The cabin lights began to strobe on and off, adding to the confusion as people and objects ricocheted off the walls.

"Hotch?" Reid managed just as the lights gave out entirely. The engine shrieked even louder as the pilot tried to pull them out of the nose dive. Then they ran out of air. The air was filled with the sound of tortured metal and a whooshing that Hotch recognized as fire. Turning in his seat to look back up the aisle, the luggage from the racks above came raining down as the plane scrapped along the rocks of the mountain. Instinctively, Hotch raised his arms to protect his head. It wasn't enough. A particularly large piece of luggage struck Aaron on the side of the head. Slumping bonelessly in his seat, he lost consciousness.

"Hotch?" Reid asked again. In the darkness, he reached out to his boss. He felt Hotch's limp body move toward him. Distractedly, Reid noticed the flickering flames. Just as he began to panic, the plane angled toward his side, ripping the wing off and sending debris through the small windows. A fist sized piece of jagged metal smashed through the glass and smacked Spencer in the back of the head. Consciousness vanished quickly. As Reid slumped down into his seat, his head came to rest against Aaron's shoulder.

OOOOO

The first thing Hotch became aware of was a pounding pain in the side of his head. The second thing he noticed was that the noise hadn't really diminished. The groaning protest of ripping metal had been replaced with the roar of fire and passengers screaming. Opening his eyes, Hotch was immediately left blinking rapidly to try to get the bitter smoke out of them.

"Reid?" Hotch said. Absently, he wiped at the blood flowing down the side of his face. The skin was torn and sore to the touch but not anything he hadn't experienced at least once before. Compared to Foyet, it was a minor inconvenience. The flames were moving from the front of the cabin. The resulting smoke was black and choking. Coughing harshly, Hotch realized his junior team member was slumped up against his side. It deeply concerned him that it had taken him this long to realize it. Pulling his shirt tail out of his pants, Hotch used it to cover his mouth. Even still, the bitter, toxic smoke burned his throat and nose with each inhalation.

"Reid, wake up," Hotch said reaching over to shake the younger man's nearest shoulder with his free hand. All he got in response was a low moan. Cursing, Hotch ignored the pounding of his own head, the burning of his eyes and the nausea that was threatening to overtake him and fought against his seat belt.

The plane had finally stopped, at least Hotch hoped so. It didn't feel like it was moving under him as he struggled to get belt buckle to release. The metal clasp had jammed sometime during their rough descent. Around him, the Unit Chief could hear some of the other passengers moving up and down the aisle, trying to get people out. Luckily, the fire wasn't flashing through the cabin, not yet anyway.

"Reid, wake up!" Hotch repeated. Abruptly, the clasp let go. Standing up, Hotch caught hold of Reid under the arms and dragged him into the aisle.

"Hey, man, this way!" a young voice said as Hotch was grabbed in the gloom and pulled toward the fire. Instinct told him to fight back, to move toward the other end of the plane. Then he felt a cool breeze brush across his face.

There was a large rent in the skin of the plane. Survivors were using it to escape. The front door to the plane was now engulfed with flames. Cautiously, Hotch made his way between the jagged pieces of torn metal. Despite his best efforts, in the process, Reid's trouser leg caught on a low edge. Hotch could only hope that it hadn't reached the skin underneath the fabric as he pulled violently on it. Finally free, he was only vaguely aware of the cold and the snow as he continued to pull Reid's limp body along the rocky ground, away from the smoking fuselage.

"Stay here," Hotch said as soon as he'd moved what felt like a safe distance away. He carefully propped Reid up against a large boulder before turning back to the wreckage. People were wandering around. Some were crying, some screaming, some were mute. They were all common reactions to shock. As gently as he could, Hotch directed the more dazed ones away from the plane. Then, pulling his shirt back up over his mouth, the Unit Chief stepped back inside.

The first place Hotch went upon returning to the inside of the plane was to check on the young mother and the girl. Hurling down the aisle, avoiding wreckage, stumbling people and something else that was soft under his feet Hotch found his seat and moved onto the next one. He could no longer see in the black smoke and what little light shone through the broken windows. Feeling the soft fabric of the seats, Hotch searched frantically by touch. It seemed to take an eternity, but amid the systematic search of the seats and the ground in front of them, Hotch eventually found a small leg.

"Please, please, please," Hotch muttered under his breath as he grasped the child's leg and carefully drew her toward him. He was greatly relieved to find that the girl's skin was warm and he could barely make out a femoral pulse under his finger tips. She was a rag doll in his hands but as he pulled her closer, he felt her gentle breath on his cheek.

Once he had the child securely held under one arm, Hotch continued the search. He needed to find the mother and quickly. The crackling of the fire was getting closer. He could swear he felt the heat drawing nearer as well. His fingers running over the backs of the seats in front of the woman's seats, he felt a change in cloth. Gripping hold of it, Hotch struggled to pull the woman toward him. No matter how hard he pulled, though, he couldn't get her to budge. It appeared that she was either caught on something or trapped underneath something.

"Damn it!" Hotch swore as he felt the child in his arm begin to stir. There was less noise in the plane now. He hoped desperately that it meant that everyone that was going to had gotten out of the wreckage. Stumbling over to the hole in the wall, the Unit Chief managed to hand the child off to one of the basketball players. The hole was too small for him to pass through it with the child in his arms.

"Is everyone out?" Hotch shouted to the nearest person who seemed at least moderately aware. It turned out to be one of the flight attendants. The young man turned at the sound of Hotch's voice and gazed dazedly at the black haired man. Beyond the attendant, Hotch watched the player carry the child over to where Reid was still sitting unconscious. "Is everyone out!"

Before the young attendant answered, Hotch heard a distant thumping and calling. It took a moment to realize it was coming from the back of the craft. The image of the air marshal escorting the father into the holding room flashed through his mind. In all the chaos and darkness, Hotch had no idea if either man had gotten out. "Son of a bitch," Hotch swore vehemently.

The flames were slowly making their way toward the rent in the fuselage. Hotch knew he had to get the mother out and check the rest of the seats before it cut him off from the only exit. The smoke was choking him and blinding him, making the search even harder. One last look at Reid, moderately safe, Hotch plunged back inside. He wasn't going to leave anyone behind.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello! Thank you ever so much for all the wonderful reviews! They are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing. So please, keep reviewing and I'll keep writing!_

_Anyway, this is a little shorter than I'd hoped but it's all I've come up with in the last three days. I hope to update this story at least once a week. If I'm really motivated, it'll be twice a week. We'll have to see how well my muse is working. However often I update please let me know how I'm doing and please stick with me. I'll finish this story it just might take a little while._

_Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting to add this to my story._

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters created by the series creator and writers. I'm not making any money off this. I'm just having a lot of fun! I promise to return all characters back where I got them in close to their original condition. All original characters are my own, however.**_

_Susanne_

CHAPTER THREE

The darkness seemed even worse than before after looking out into the light. Taking a deep breath, Hotch waited for a heartbeat before heading back towards his seat. There were still a few people shuffling around the ruptured fuselage.

"Make your way outside," Hotch instructed as a young woman stumbled past him. In the dim light, he couldn't make out if she was injured but it didn't matter much. Everyone needed to get out, just in case.

"Screw you," the girl growled as she continued towards the back of the plane. "My dad's back there."

Great, Hotch thought, another one. Ignoring her since she wasn't in any immediate danger by moving away from the fire, Hotch turned his attention back to the woman trapped under the seat. He made his way down the aisle. In the darkness he was forced to shuffle. He bumped into random pieces of luggage and then something softer. Crouching, the Unit Chief felt around the ground until he found the source. It took everything in him not to pull away from the too cold flesh under his finger tips. Whoever it had been, the person was now dead.

Taking another deep breath, Hotch stood up and carefully stepped over the body. Then he was finally there. Kneeling, Hotch reached out to the woman, hoping against hope that she was still alive. He was rewarded with warm flesh when he found her.

"Where's Emily?" the woman asked. She was struggling against the seat that seemed to be holding her hostage. Her left leg wouldn't budge, no matter how hard she tried and she was trying for all she was worth. Her fear for her daughter drove her.

"I took her outside the plane. She appears to be fine. Now let's get you out of here," Hotch responded, trying to calm the woman's terror. It was bad enough that they had survived a plane crash he didn't want to make things worse.

Gently, he ran his hands over the woman's body, trying to figure out what was holding him. The woman stilled under his hands, which helped but it still took far too long to locate the problem. When the wing came off the plane, it bent the fuselage, trapping the woman's leg between the twisted metal and the seat support. He was going to need something strong to bend the fuselage or the support. "What's your name?"

"Laura," the woman responded. Once Hotch's hands left her leg, she began pulling on it again. Maybe this time it would work.

"Stop pulling, you can't get your leg out without help," Hotch said. He was trying to keep the woman calm while fear was gnawing at his own mind. Leaning back onto his haunches, Hotch looked up the aisle. He was truly amazed that the fire hadn't roared through the cabin. At the moment it seemed to have found enough fuel to be content where it was. He only hoped their luck continued. "I have to go find a pry bar or something similar. I'll be right back."

"Please don't go!" Laura pleaded. When she'd awakened in the darkness all alone, panic had overwhelmed her. She wasn't willing to lose the only person who seemed to care that she was trapped. All she wanted was to get lose, find her daughter and get the hell home. After this trip she didn't plan on leaving home anytime in this century.

"Would this help?" Hotch jumped as the voice. He hadn't heard the three people coming toward him from the rear of the plane. That alone was enough to let the Unit Chief know that he too was suffering the effects of shock. His eyes were dazzled by a beam of light. Apparently someone had found a flashlight.

"We need to get everyone out and save as much of the luggage as we can. It's cold out there, we're going to need everything we can scrounge to survive until the search party finds us," Hotch stated. It was a knee-jerk reaction to having been scared. Hotch hated giving in to his emotions, not when they got in the way of doing what was necessary.

"Let's start with her," the voice behind the light suggested. The flashlight moved down to the floor, then the owner of the voice handed Hotch an axe. In the light, Hotch recognized the man as the Air Marshall. His companions were the father and the girl that had sworn at him.

While they fought with the metal to release Laura, Hotch heard the sound of fire extinguishers and then the smell of chemicals replaced the scent of burning seats. From the voices floating back to him, Hotch surmised that the flight attendants had found the extinguishers and were trying to put the fire out. He hoped that they had more success than he expected.

"Okay. I think that'll work," the Air Marshall said after manoeuvring the axe into place. The handle was long enough for Hotch to grab part of it while the Marshall gripped the rest. "On three. One. Two. Three."

Amid much grunting, the two of them managed to bend the metal enough for the now sober father and daughter to pull Laura out. "Get her outside," the Marshall ordered, indicating the father and daughter. "We'll start throwing luggage out. He's right we're going to need everything we can get."

Suddenly a lot more cooperative, the two led Laura out of the cabin. Using the one flashlight, the two men started at the back and began pulling every bag they could find out toward the gash in the cabin wall. Before they were a quarter of the way done, the flight attendants had finished with the fire and were handing the bags out to other passengers. In a matter of minutes, they had the cabin cleaned out.

"How long until we can expect a rescue?" Hotch asked the nearest flight attendant. The young man glanced at him before answering.

"We were diverting to Seattle because of the disturbance. I don't know if the pilot had time to advise air traffic control or not," he admitted. Hotch saw the fear reflected in the twenty-something year old man's blue eyes.

"Have you talked to the captain since the crash?" Hotch asked. He knew the chances were slim but he had to ask. The more information he had the better chance he had to making plans that would work.

The man dropped his gaze to the ground. Silently, he shook his head no.

"Well, we'd better go check on the flight crew," Hotch stated. The metal was still hot from the fire. Standing back, Hotch kicked at the door to the flight deck with every ounce of strength he could manage. The shock of the impact reverberated all the way up to the Unit Chief's hip. Where was Morgan when they needed him? Hotch wondered ruefully as he tried to hide how much the ill advised action had hurt him.

"Are you all right?" the young man asked. He could have told the older man that kicking the door wouldn't work. The big steel doors were reinforced after the events of 9/11. No amount of kicking would break it down. Even shooting it with a gun wouldn't have worked.

"I'm fine," Hotch lied as he rubbed his hip. Great, just what he didn't need. "Let's see if we can get through the front windows."

The dubious look on the man's face told Hotch all he needed to know about that chances of that working but he had to try. Then he was going to go check on Reid. Now that the immediate concern for Laura was gone, Hotch felt the need to know how his young co-worker was doing.

Trying to not step on any of the bodies that littered the cabin, Hotch made his way back to the rip in the fuselage. The flight attendant had all ready tried the door. The frame was too badly twisted for the portal to be opened. That left them using the hole as an alternate route of escape.

Stepping out into the suddenly freezing air, Hotch looked to his right along the hull of the plane. What he found caused him to take a step back. The entire cockpit of the plane was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you ever so much for all the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen but that's my favourite way to write. Sit down, hold on and hopefully you will enjoy the ride!_

_Thank you also to all of you who have added this story to your alerts and favourites. Knowing that there are so many people out there waiting for me to update definitely helps to keep me motivated. The reviews certainly help too. Hint hint._

_Bye for now._

_Susanne_

CHAPTER FOUR

The realization that the flight crew, the black box and the emergency beacon were gone seeped in slowly into Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner's addled mind. The mere fact that it took as long as it did to completely register let Hotch know that he too was suffering from shock.

While his mind processed what his eyes were seeing, Aaron stood stock still, staring at the torn metal where the cockpit had been not that terribly long ago. All around him, other passengers were lying on the ground injured or in shock. Others were trying to tend the injured or were scrounging through their luggage, looking for warmer clothes. It was then that Hotch realized that they had crashed above the snow line. The ground was covered with a thick layer of snow. The only real ground he could see was where the plane had scoured it clean in its landing.

"Damn it," Aaron swore. Tearing his eyes away from the non-existent cockpit, he turned his attention to his associate. At least there was something he could do for Reid, he hoped. In a heartbeat, he was at Reid's side, not even aware of the pain in his hip and the resulting limp.

The young genius was still unconscious. He was sprawled on his side, his knees drawn up to his chest. He looked pale and cold and so very young. Hotch had taken his suit jacket off during the flight. At the moment he desperately wished he had it. The need to cover Reid up was nearly overpowering.

"Reid?" Aaron said softly as he looked down on Reid's prone shape. Reid was lying on his right side, his back still propped against the rock but he'd slid to the ground sometime during Hotch's excursions into the plane.

Kneeling down in the snow beside his young colleague's still figure, Hotch reached out toward Spencer's neck to check for a pulse. If Reid was dead, he didn't know what he was going to do. It was an irrational thought, not one worthy of an FBI Unit Chief but it was also the truth. Hotch was only partially aware of how badly his hand was shaking when he pressed his fingers against the boy's cold skin. Relief flowed through him. Reid's heart was still beating, strong and steady. The steady pulse of pain from Hotch's hip was lost in his concern for his friend.

"Okay, let's get you covered up," Hotch muttered as he looked around for the nearest suit case. He would apologize to the owner later, if he figured out who it was. He needed to find some clothes for both of them. Reid's core temperature was all ready dangerously low. Hotch had progressed from shivering to his teeth chattering. All the suit cases he could see were currently claimed. Just as he was considering going to search closer to the plane when Laura came up to him, a blanket in one hand and Emily perched on her hip with the other.

"Here," the blond woman said, offering the blanket. Both she and her daughter were dressed in warm clothes. Apparently she'd found her own luggage. Hotch was relieved to find that the woman appeared to be only marginally injured from being trapped in the plane. He noticed that her pant leg was ripped and blood stained but Laura didn't seem to notice or care. "This will help keep him warm."

"Thank you," Hotch stated, accepting the blanket. He was relieved to see that Emily was remarkably calm. Now that she had her mom, everything was right with the world. Looking down at Reid, the little girl giggled.

"Pretty," Emily said, pointing a pudgy little finger at Reid. "Mine."

"I'm so sorry," Laura said, her face turning bright red in embarrassment. "She likes the boys."

Smiling, Hotch bent down, laid the blanket out in the snow and carefully moved Reid on top of it. He needed to protect the injured man from the cold as much as possible. While Aaron shifted the lanky man's form onto the blanket, he took the time to check his subordinate over. Initially there was no obvious injury to explain the man's continued unconsciousness. Then he pulled half of the blanket over top. Reid was going to need more than a single blanket but even its thin material would help.

"Is he all right?" Laura asked. Emily struggled to get down. Not sure what else to do, Laura set the toddler down on the ground beside the young man. The girl was momentarily distracted by the snow. Giggling, she ran her fingers through it.

"I'm not sure," Hotch admitted. Absently, he wiped the blood off of his own face with his left arm while he used his right hand to feel Reid's body for broken bones. Emily scooted over to Reid's head and laid her own up against his. Hotch swore he heard the girl singing or humming quietly.

"You're FBI," a voice stated from behind Hotch. Satisfied that there wasn't anything obviously wrong with Reid's limbs or torso, Aaron began running his hands over Reid's head, much to Emily's disgust. The toddler swatted at Hotch's hands and wailed at him.

"Yes, we both are," Hotch stated. Under his finger tips, he'd found a swollen section on Reid's skull. When he drew his hand back, his fingers were slick with blood. As gently as he could manage with the sulking child so close, Hotch turned Reid's head to the side and searched among the curly, chestnut locks until he found the damage done by the debris.

"I'm Jake Thurston," the voice continued. Hotch was only marginally aware of the fact that the voice belonged to the Air Marshal. The man was standing beside Laura, watching him tend to Reid. Hotch knew he should be helping to deal with the other passengers, especially the wounded, but all he cared about at the moment was Reid. The rest could wait until he was sure the young genius was okay or at the very least going to live.

"I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner. This is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid," Hotch stated as he checked the wound more thoroughly. As he worked, Emily cooed and patted Reid's head. She didn't seem to mind the cold or the trauma of their landing. She was just happy to be able to touch the 'pretty' one that she now considered to be hers.

"Are they going to come get us tonight?" Laura asked as she watched both Hotch and her child. She wasn't entirely sure who 'they' were but she hoped desperately that they would miraculously appear. She had no idea what she was going to do once Emily got hungry or thirsty. All of her baby food and bottles had shattered in her suitcase, resulting in them only having the clothes on their backs.

"Not likely," Jake stated. He had gotten the flight attendants to marshal enough people to rescue the rest of the luggage from underneath the plane. They were going to need all the supplies they could get. That was keeping any of the able bodied passengers busy. Keeping people busy was going to help reduce stress on everybody.

"Do we have anything that can be used for bandages?" Hotch asked, interrupting the two. The wound wasn't especially deep but being a head wound, it was still bleeding freely.

"One of the flight attendants found a first aid kit. There might be some left in there," Jake said. The tall marshal turned to head in the direction of the male attendant. Clearly SSA Hotchner wasn't going to leave his subordinate's side any time soon.

"Hotch?" The voice was low. Aaron almost lost it amid the low rumble of people talking around him. He was so intent on examining the laceration to the back of Reid's head that he hadn't noticed the young man's brown eyes flicker open. Memories of what was happening when he'd passed out flashed through Reid's mind. Jerking away from the cold, probing fingers, the young genius struggled to sit up. Panic threatened to overcome logic. Then he heard a little giggle.

"You're okay, Reid," Hotch responded as he carefully pushed the thin man back to the ground and the blanket. Emily scooted closer and patted Reid's head rather hard. Gently, Hotch pulled the toddler's hand away. "I'm going to put a bandage on your head and then you can get up."

"Where are we?" Reid asked as he tried to see around the rock his boss had him facing. He was only slightly aware of Emily. The girl was now running her hands through Reid's hair. Apparently that was enough to entertain her for the moment.

"Somewhere in the mountains," Hotch responded. Sitting back on his haunches, the Unit chief took his first real look around. As Hotch turned, his hip muscles clenched in a spasm. As nonchalantly as he could manage, Aaron moved into a more comfortable position and resumed checking out their surroundings.

The plane had come to rest in a deep valley. The valley walls were pretty sheer on either side. All Hotch could see of the sky was directly over his head and to either side. The plane was resting up against the eastern most edge, shearing what was left of the wing on that side of the fuselage. The valley was barren. There were no trees around, just a few large boulders and several smaller ones. The valley floor was only thirty feet or so at this point, it narrowed further to his right. Debris filled the valley, small fires flickering and dancing over some of the larger plane parts.

Digging into his cell phone holder, Hotch pulled the piece of electronics out. He knew it was a million to one shot but he had to try. While the phone had stayed with him during his adventures, it showed no signal. They weren't going to find help from there. Even if he climbed to the top of the 60 percent grade valley walls, he could see taller mountain peaks beyond in all four directions. At this point he wasn't even sure if a satellite phone would help.

"Here you go," Jake said as he handed Hotch what looked like someone's clean t-shirt, two sweaters and two more blankets. He'd seen the older man shaking with the cold. Even if he wasn't going to say anything, Jake was determined to make sure the man didn't freeze while he took care of his friend.

"Thank you," Hotch said. The t-shirt was sacrificed for bandages for Reid's head. One sweater went over Hotch's shivering torso, the other he struggled to get Reid into. The young genius began nauseated as soon as he helped him sit up which left him throwing up helplessly in the snow beyond his blanket.

"Uh oh," Emily said as she watched Reid with huge eyes. She didn't know what he was doing but it didn't look like a lot of fun.

Unsure of how to help, Hotch pulled Reid's lanky frame over his knees. Reid's head was still over the snow but at least he wouldn't wind up fast first into his stomach contents. As he waited for the boy's stomach to settle, Hotch marvelled at just how thin Reid really was. Under his hands, even with Reid's shirt, sweater vest and a second sweater covering him, he swore he could count each individual rib in his back and every vertebra. Ignoring the thought, Hotch rubbed the younger man's back and made comforting sounds like he would if Jack, his son, was ill. By the time Reid was done, the young genius was like a newborn kitten, his body shivering with cold and weakness.

Shuddering, Reid tried to pull himself off his boss's lap. He was mortified that he was lying across Hotch's knees but any movement only brought the nausea flooding back. Gulping back the bile, Reid closed his eyes and simply wished to disappear.

"You're okay," Hotch said as he carefully extracted Reid from his legs and laid him back down on his blanket. Then he covered him up again, using one of the two extra blankets. The second one he had to break down and wrap around himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he was cold. Glancing up at the sky, Hotch realized that nightfall was going to come early in the valley. They were lucky if they had two hours of light left. There was a lot that was going to have to be done in that time if they were going to survive the night.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello! Thank you so very much for all the wonderful reviews. I love reading each and every one of them! _

_This chapter doesn't thrill me. It seems a little stinted to me but hopefully you enjoy it. Let me know what you think! It helps me write better in the future._

_Susanne_

CHAPTER FIVE

"We need to get ready to spend the night here," Jake stated. Looking around at the snow, rocks and passengers, the Air Marshal was nearly overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they needed to do. The flight attendants were working admirably, getting the luggage out of the torn fuselage, keeping the injured comfortable, dealing with the few passengers that had gone hysterical after the crash, but there was so much more that they needed to accomplish.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," Hotch admitted. He hated to leave Reid. He knew the kid was going to be okay but it still grated on his nerves at how vulnerable the genius currently was, especially without Morgan here to watch over him. "We've got to get out of the elements. The best thing we have is the fuselage of the plane. It's damaged but it'll protect us from the wind."

Looking over at the damaged plane, Jake wasn't sure he saw the same potential in the twisted metal. "Are you sure about that?"

"There aren't many options right now. We can use the seats for beds or pull them out to make room if we can't keep the temperature up inside. There should be tools somewhere. We can block most of the hole in the fuselage to help retain heat but leave an opening big enough to have a fire. There's enough debris around to create a safe fire place. We're going to need the heat to survive the night and to melt snow for water," Hotch said. He saw that Laura seemed to be content to watch over Reid and her daughter. That was going to have to be good enough for now.

"No problem," Jake stated, looking less than convinced. "Were you planning to send smoke signals too?"

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked. He'd moved away from Reid and was searching through the debris to find a piece large enough and shaped well enough to be used for a fire pit. Absently he pulled the blanket closer around his shoulders. The wind blowing through the valley was icy cold. Being careful to not step on anyone, he made his way down toward the wider end of the valley. The debris field was larger here but the number of people was substantially reduced.

"Haven't you noticed? There's no cell reception up here and the transponder is gone with the cockpit. Rescue doesn't know where to look for us," Jake stated. He'd glanced around to make sure none of the others were near enough to hear his words of doom and gloom. The last thing they needed was for the other passengers to lose hope. Survival was going to be hard enough.

"My team will realize we're missing when neither of us contacts them. They will figure it out. Besides, air traffic control must have seen us go down. The rescue teams will be here in the morning, the afternoon at the latest," Hotch stated, sounding more confident than he felt.

"I hope you're right," Jake responded. He wasn't in the mood to argue. Aimlessly, he followed the older man as he made his way through the valley, pausing on occasion to pick up a piece of metal only to discard it.

Finally, Hotch found a suitable piece. Picking it up, he headed back to the plane. It hadn't been lost on him that during his search he hadn't found the cockpit. Wherever the front of the plane had gone would have to remain a mystery for the evening. Time was passing and the sun was all ready getting lower in the sky. "Let's head back and get the others back into the plane," he said.

OOOOO

The trip back was harder than Hotch had anticipated. Between the incline, the snow and the elevation of the valley, he was breathing heavily by the time he got back to the plane. He was only dimly aware of how badly his hip was aching. The piece of metal trailing behind him, the Unit Chief made his way to the rip in the plane's side. It took a little work, but he got the piece of metal inside without cutting his hands to shreds.

Jake had all ready informed the flight attendants of his plans and had the mobile passengers cleaning out the fuselage. The dead were being moved outside the plane, towards the narrow end of the valley. The burned parts of the plane were also being pulled out of the cabin. The smell of the items alone was enough to render them useless, not to mention how badly they were damaged.

Satisfied, Aaron headed to check on Reid. It was all ready getting colder so the Unit chief wanted to make sure he was all right. During the time that Aaron had been gone, the clear sky had been replaced by grey, low hanging clouds. The tops of the mountains around them were completely obscured. As he moved over to where Laura was sitting beside Reid, Emily asleep in her arms, a single snowflake floated out of the sky and landed on Hotch's nose. Irritably, he wiped it away, his sleeve coming away bloody from his head wound.

"You're bleeding again," Jake stated. The Air Marshal had finished dragging out one of the burnt seats and had witnessed Hotch's reaction. He knew that the older man was ignoring his own injuries to make sure the others were taken care of, especially his colleague.

"I'm fine," Hotch grated as he knelt stiffly beside a sleeping Reid. The young genius looked pale, drawn and exhausted beyond human endurance. Just looking at Reid's face was enough to send the Unit Chief's stress level into the atmosphere. "Reid?"

Cautiously, Hotch reached out and shook the genius's shoulder. Reid allowed his team mates to touch him so infrequently that again Hotch was struck by just how thin the young man really was. Under his fingers he could feel every bone in sharp relief. Sighing heavily, he tried once again to wake Spencer.

"What?" Reid mumbled. It was so much nicer in the darkness of sleep. The real world was too cold and too painful. Prying his brown eyes open a fraction of an inch, he found fuzzy white orbs floating around in his field of vision. Somehow that made his head hurt all the more.

"Are you all right?" Hotch asked. Behind him he could hear the other passengers moving around, collecting the scattered luggage and heaving it into the cabin. Others were also trying to pull some of the seats out. The confines of the cabin were too, well, confining. They were going to need more room if everyone was going to sleep inside.

"I'm fine," Spencer replied. He blinked rapidly to clear the sleep out of his eyes. The world had gotten darker since he'd closed his eyes. The fuzzy white things kept floating around in front of his face. It took him a few minutes to fully process that it was snow. A chill passed through his body, making his head shake in ways it didn't appreciate at the moment.

"How's your head?" Hotch asked. As he watched, a wince crossed over Spencer's face. Trying to ignore his ailments, he tried to force his protesting body off the ground. Somehow the ground was so much harder than earlier. He got as far as a seated position before his strength ran out. Just as he was sliding back to the ground, Hotch slipped a hand behind Reid's back to support him.

"I'm fine," Reid parroted. He hated being weak in front of his boss. Hotch was never weak, never. Even after being stabbed repeatedly by Foyet, Hotch had remained stoic and strong. After being kidnapped, beaten and drugged for two days, Reid had been an addicted mess. Despite his years as a special agent, Reid had always felt weaker, younger and in need of protection, even after passing his fire arms test every year.

"You look fine," Hotch responded, seeing his own reluctance to admit injury in the younger man's face. At least the nausea seemed to have passed, for which Hotch was grateful. Another wince passed over Reid's thin face. Unconsciously, Hotch moved a little closer. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the cold was settling like a wool cloak about his shoulders. What little heat Reid produced felt very good. "Almost as good as I feel."

"That good, huh?" Reid stated. He looked around the valley floor, taking in the activity by the plane. "Rescue isn't coming today I take it."

"No, not today. Come on, let's see about getting you a place to sleep for the night," Hotch suggested.

OOOOO

By the time Hotch made his way back into the cabin, a good part of the work had all ready been done, thanks to Jake and the flight attendants. The wounded, except for Reid, had been moved into the back of the cabin onto the seats that had been left for this purpose. The rest of the seats had been pulled out through brute force and tools found in the back of the plane. The section of metal that Hotch had hauled up the valley was situated in the middle of the cleared out space, the rent in the fuselage a few short feet away. The suit cases that were whole were stacked up just beside the gash in the metal. The contents of the other suit cases had been moved into the back of the plane where it was going to be portioned out among the survivors as necessary.

"We left a row of seats for your colleague," Jake said, pointing out the first seat that was unoccupied. There were a few blankets on the seat. "We figured he could use something softer than the ground to sleep on."

"Thank you," Hotch responded as he helped Reid through the rift in the fuselage before steering him toward the seat. As much as Reid had protested needing help, Hotch could feel the young man's body shaking with fatigue from the short trip into the plane. Fear spiked for the first time. The emotion had been gnawing away at the back of Hotch's mind ever since he'd woken up but for the first time, he couldn't force it to the back of his mind.

As Hotch settled Reid into the seat, the young genius couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped. As much as he hated to admit it, Reid was very grateful for the bed. He just wished they all had one.

"How's the fire coming?" one of the passengers asked. It was dark outside. Everyone had climbed back into the plane. A few of the basketball players were positioning the suit cases in front of the hole, leaving enough of a gap for smoke to get out. Books, papers and other flammables were being sacrificed to keep people warm. Jake was trying to get the contents of the fire pit going but so far he hadn't had much success.

"Keep your pants on," Jake griped. As he struggled to get the fire going the Air Marshal saw his breath coming out in white clouds in the air. The temperature had dropped significantly with the disappearance of the sun. The snow was continuing to fall outside but so far there was no wind.

The dark confines of the plane were being lit up at random by passengers opening their cell phones, hoping against hope to get a signal. The passengers were trying to make the best of sleeping on the floor. Families were staying together, the basketball players were staying close together. Looking around, Hotch realized he didn't even know how many people had survived the crash and how many people hadn't.

From the red eyes in the crowd, Hotch surmised that some of the families were no longer complete. Exhausted beyond words, the Unit Chief settled down on the floor beside Reid's bed. Spencer was too long for the seat so he'd curled up on his side with his knees drawn up enough to keep his feet on the bed. He had his blankets pulled up under his chin in an attempt to get warm again. Glancing over at the profiler in the light from a kid's cell phone, Hotch wasn't surprised to find Spencer's brown eyes watching him.

"We're going to get out of this," Hotch assured him in a quiet voice. In the light of the cabin, with his knees drawn up the way they were, Spencer suddenly looked so much younger than he was. The fear was quickly morphing to panic. He had to make sure Reid got through this safely. With any luck he was going to get through this safely as well. He had to for Jack's sake. His son had all ready lost his mother. He didn't need to lose his father too. Turning from Reid's pleading eyes, Hotch rested his head on his own drawn up knees. It was going to be a very long night.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: As always thank you so very much for the wonderful interviews! I love checking my mail and finding some waiting for me, it really makes my day!_

_Now, I was asked if this was going to be SLASH. No, absolutely not. I don't do slash. I sometimes read it but not very often. It's something I'm not comfortable writing or even thinking about, truth be told. That's just the way I'm wired. Those authors that like it are more than welcome to write it. I admit in some of my stories (all of my previous Criminal Minds ones anyway) I have had sexual abuse but this story shouldn't have that. I don't think. Not entirely sure yet though, I'll admit._

_So, please keep the reviews coming. They really help to keep me motivated! Thank you also to all the people who have added this story to their alerts. Knowing so many people are out there waiting is highly motivating as well!_

_Take care._

_Susanne_

CHAPTER SIX

Gradually the sounds in the plane dissipated. The passengers were slowly succumbing to sleep. The events of the day conspired to rob them of their strength. Even the too hyper basketball players eventually stopped talking quietly among themselves and gradually began to snore. Lying on the seats, Reid tried desperately to stay awake. He had a head wound after all and sleeping was contraindicated in people with head injuries. Looking around in the dim light of the fire, Reid realized it was probably the least of his problems at the moment.

A chill passed through his body. Despite the fire gently burning a few feet away, Reid was feeling the chill of the night air. In the firelight he could see his breath coming out in small puffs of fog. Damn but it was cold. For a kid from Las Vegas, he'd never had much tolerance for the cold winters of Quantico. But that was nothing compared to this.

"Are you all right?" It was Hotch, asking the same question he'd all ready asked seven times before. If Reid was honest he'd tell his supervisor that he felt like crap from throwing up everything he'd eaten in the last week. He wasn't sure if he could pry his body off the seats if the plane started on fire again. There was also the fact that his head hurt like a son of a bitch. The cut on the back of his head was tight, hot and sore. It felt like his head was pounding like a drum head. He wasn't sure how he was ever going to fall asleep, he was so uncomfortable.

"I'm fine," Reid muttered. It was the only answer he could give. It wasn't like Hotch could do anything to help him, make him more comfortable. "How are you?"

Hotch looked around at the carpet of bodies lying on the cold metal of the plane floor. Everything about this situation felt wrong. His hip burned when he didn't move and sent white hot pokers of pain through him when he did move. Despite the blanket he had wrapped around him, the cool of the metal beneath him was making his hip ache as well.

"I'm fine, too," Hotch replied, a crooked smile on his lips. He knew they were both lying but there wasn't anything else to do. "Try to get some sleep. They'll be looking for us in the morning."

"If we're not found in the first 24 hours of crashing, our chance of survival dramatically decreases," Reid stated. Despite everything, the genius in Spencer couldn't keep from saying that little tidbit of knowledge. From the frown that flashed over Hotch's face, clearly it hadn't been the best thing to say.

"We'll be found," Hotch stated. He wasn't sure if he believed it but he needed the others in the plane to hear it just in case any of them were awake. "Now get some sleep."

OOOOO

Eventually Hotch heard Reid pass into sleep. The soft snores coming from his seat told him that the younger man had finally gotten comfortable enough to succumb. Jake had taken up a position by the barricaded door. The male flight attendant had sat down beside Hotch and had long since fallen asleep too. The younger man hadn't stopped moving, taking care of passengers and making sure everyone was taken care of since the flight had left the ground. He deserved to be exhausted.

Looking around at the huddle of people spread over the floor, Hotch realized he knew only a few names of the people spending the night with him. That was disconcerting. SSA Hotchner was well accustomed to being in complete control of his world. Even while hunting unsubs who had done truly horrific things, he never felt out of control. Well, at least rarely. Taking a deep breath, Hotch tried to settle a little more comfortably into his bed, well, his blanket.

"Where are you going?" a quiet voice asked. The sound startled Hotch awake. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, Hotch scanned the plane to see what was going on. Quickly he spied one of the basketball players' mothers trying to move the baggage away from the door. She was a middle aged woman with long brown hair that was currently unkempt and had several extra pounds on her petite frame. She glanced irritably at the Air Marshall as he tried to stop her from going outside.

"I have to go to the bathroom. Would you like me to do that in here in front of everyone?" the woman demanded. There was a quiet desperation on her round face. Hotch wasn't sure he would have stood in her way. Ignoring the pain, Hotch pried himself off the floor and headed over to help. There were so many people lying around it was hard to move much less get the pile of luggage out of the way without dumping it on someone.

"It's cold out there and there could be wild animals," Jake was saying as he worked. He glanced at the woman as he helped move the luggage. Then Hotch was there helping too. The cold air that escaped into the plane was especially frigid but he agreed with the woman that relieving oneself in the confines of the plane was a very bad idea. They were going to have to come up with a plan for a latrine in the morning, if they needed to.

"I don't care. I'm not doing this in front of all these people," the woman said as the last of the luggage finally moved out of the way. Not waiting for the two men's permission, the woman dove out of the hole and took a break to the left.

"This is a really bad idea," Jake stated as they moved some of the luggage back to break the ice cold breeze that was blowing through the rip in the side. "I've heard something moving around out there."

Instantly concerned, Hotch glanced at the darkness beyond the metal wall. "What kind of something?"

"I'm not sure, just something. Are we sure that everyone on the plane has been accounted for?" Jake responded.

"To be honest I'm not sure. It kind of slipped my mind," Hotch hated to admit that a detail had gotten by him. He prided himself on always covering the details.

"I have to admit that it did for me too. Too much was happening," Jake said. He glanced toward the door. The woman hadn't come back. Concern passed through him. How many minutes had gone by? Apparently not enough. Slipping his head out the hole, he called out to her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, leave me in peace!" the woman shouted back. Clearly she didn't appreciate their concern. Settling down beside the luggage, Jake nodded to Hotch.

"I think she's okay. She'll let us know if anything comes up," Jake said.

Not sure he'd sleep again anyway knowing that there were strange sounds outside, Hotch tried to settle back into his piece of ground. It seemed that much colder with the door open more. Still, in mere moments he was sound asleep again.

OOOOO

"Where's Mom?" a young male voice demanded not that far away. Forcing his eyes open, Hotch quickly assessed the situation. In the few seconds it took to come to full wakefulness, the Unit Chief had wondered what the hell was going on. Why are there so many people in his apartment? Then the images of the case, the flight and the crash flashed rapidly through his mind's eye.

Hotch managed to get most of the way to his feet. It was then he realized his hip wasn't functioning at 100 % anymore. Sometime during the night it had seized up and wouldn't straighten completely. Cursing under his breath, he turned to the anxious young basketball player who was confronting a guilty looking Jake. "What's going on here?"

"This moron let my mom go outside last night and didn't stay awake long enough to make sure she came back in!" the young man shouted. He looked like he was ready to beat the crap out of Jake, if he'd let him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't intend to fall asleep. I checked on her a couple of times before I did and she kept saying she was all right. I never imagined that she hadn't come back in. Wait here and I'll go outside," Jake stated, trying to return reason to the confines of the plane. Four of the player's teammates were standing behind him, backing him up. The situation could deteriorate quickly.

"No way, man. If anyone's going outside it's me!" The young man was furious and clearly beyond the reasoning stage. He tried to force his way by the Marshall only to find himself suddenly facing his friends with his arm pulled tightly up between his shoulder blades. "Get off of me!"

"I'll let you go as soon as you calm down," Jake reassured the young man while keeping a close eye on his friends.

"Look, this isn't anyone's fault but if your mother hasn't come back inside there is probably a very good reason for it. Whatever that reason is, you don't want to find her and have the image of whatever happened to her be the last time you see her," Hotch said, trying to calm the boy down. As he spoke, he wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and shuffled toward the entrance. Of all the people in the plane he was the best versed on death up close and personal. If anyone was going to find the woman dead outside, it was going to be him. It would just be one more face to add to his nightmares.

"No way. She's my mother!" the boy shouted again, ignoring their attempts to defuse the situation.

"Just keep him here," Hotch stated to Jake as he managed to slip by. His hip was starting to loosen up some, making walking easier but it still send stabbing pains through his torso and leg with every step he took. Squeezing through the gash in the fuselage, Hotch had to pause for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the brilliance of the snow on the ground. After the dark confines of the plane, a minor case of snow blindness tried to rear its ugly head.

Closing his eyes for a second, Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose and tried again. The reflection of the sunlight on the newly fallen snow was stunning. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes while he scanned the immediate area around the plane.

The wind during the night had erased any sign of the direction the woman had gone in. Remembering her turning to her left after exiting the plane, Hotch decided to start in the most obvious place. Trudging around what was left of the wing on that side of the plane, he made his way to the back of the plane. He'd expected to find the woman sitting frozen along the side of the plane but she wasn't there.

By the time he reached the tail of the plane, Hotch's hip was on fire. Ignoring the pain, he continued around the tail to the other side. It was there he found her. The woman was lying beside the fuselage of the plane, slumped on her right side. Hotch would have thought she'd possibly gotten lost in the dark and frozen during the night except for one simple face. The woman's stomach was sliced open and her entrails had spilled out onto the ground in front of her. "Damn it," Hotch breathed as he carefully scanned the scene. Whether the ragged gash was caused by a four legged animal or a two legged one was currently beyond him. Running a slightly shaking hand over his mouth, Agent Hotchner glanced at the plane. What the hell was going on here?

OOOOO

The team had spent the night on a stake out that was a bust. The unsub hadn't shown up even though they'd tracked him down to his grandfather's house. There had been no new bodies for 36 hours, which was strange. The unsub had been escalating when they'd come to find him, not cooling off.

Exhausted beyond words, the FBI agents handed the surveillance over to the local law enforcement officers so that they could go back to the hotel, get some rest and take showers. They had all been in their clothes for 24 hours. It was time to change.

Loading into the black SUV that had been assigned to them, Morgan climbed behind the wheel while Rossi took the front passenger seat. J.J. and Emily slipped into the back seats. Both of their heads began to nod as soon as the vehicle began to move.

"What time was Hotch and Reid's appointment with the DA?" Rossi asked suddenly. He already knew the answer to the question but he needed reassurance.

"8am," Morgan replied, his voice devoid of emotion. He was driving from memory. He was too tired to think.

"It shouldn't have taken 3 hours for them to speak to him," Rossi persisted. Before he could continue his line of reasoning, his cell phone rang. Slipping it out of its case, he thumbed the answer button and put the device to his ear. "Rossi."

"Hello Special Supervisory Agent Rossi. This is the District Attorney's office. We had an appointment with SSA Hotchner and SA Reid this morning. I'm wondering if you can explain why they didn't show up," an efficient female voice asked without preamble.

"What?" Rossi breathed, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the vehicle. Automatically, he turned toward the younger agent piloting them through the city streets. "SSA Hotchner and SA Reid left yesterday on a commercial flight so that they could make that appointment. I have no idea why they wouldn't be there."

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "Um, were they on board United flight 358?"

The ground fell out from under Rossi's feet. "Yes, that's the right flight."

Feeling the concern rolling off of Rossi in waves, Morgan pulled to the curb on the street they'd been travelling down. The two women in the back were now fully awake as well.

"Well, that would explain why they didn't arrive," the woman stated, her tone very matter of fact.

"What would explain it?" Rossi demanded. The woman was infuriating him. If he could, he would reach through the telephone and strangle her. Not a typical David Rossi response.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this but flight 358 disappeared off radar last night. The assumption is that the plane has gone down. A search is being coordinated as we speak," the woman said.

Rossi couldn't think well enough to respond to that. Feeling three sets of eyes boring into him, he finally managed to say, "Send all the particulars to my phone. We'll be joining the search as soon as we get there."

Disconnecting the call, Rossi turned to face Morgan. He could see J.J. and Emily watching him intently in the back seat.

"What the hell is going on?" Morgan demanded. Tension had taken over his neck and shoulders. Something very bad had happened. He could feel it in his bones, he had all morning.

"Reid and Hotch's plane is missing."


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello! No, I haven't forgotten about this story. I plan it in my sleep I think. It seems to take a long time to get it down, though. Sorry about that!_

_Thank you for the continued support. You know I love hearing from you. It absolutely makes my day every time! _

_Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Let me know if I've screwed up anywhere, it wouldn't be the first time._

_Susanne_

CHAPTER SEVEN

Waking came slowly to Dr. Spencer Reid. His first thought was that he'd fallen asleep with the television going again, a frequent occurrence. The sound of voices, at first quietly, discussing things just beyond his ability to hear the words, kept Reid floating between the world of sleep and the world he lived in. Then the voices became louder. One in particular, a young male one, was on the verge of hysteria. What had he been watching last night?

His eyes still closed, Reid reached out to where his coffee table should be, to locate the remote and turn the damned noise off. Unexpectedly, his long thin fingers came in contact with something warm and soft. Shocked, Reid's eyes flew open and he frantically searched his surroundings to figure out what the hell was going on. Then reality returned.

"What's going on?" Reid asked as he sat up on his set of seats. He'd touched Hotch's leg. His superior was standing between him and a very angry sounding young basketball player. Not understanding the words erupting through the boy's anguished tears Reid was forced to read his body language. Something very bad had happened, something even worse than the plane crash if that was possible.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Hotch said to the young man as four of his companions tried to hold him back. In his grief, the basketball player wanted desperately to beat the crap out of something, to make some of the pain and rage go away. So far, his friends had managed to keep him from injuring anyone, for which Hotch was grateful. With everything going on, the last thing they needed was to have to tie the boy up. Upon hearing the words, the boy seemed to deflate. Sobbing inconsolably, he crumbled to the ground. Picking him up off his knees, his friends half carried, half dragged him through the mass of bodies to their corner of the plane.

"Hotch, what's going on?" Reid asked as he sat up. This morning his head continued to pound but the nausea seemed to be under control, for which he was grateful. While he still felt like his ears were ringing, Reid could now concentrate on things beyond himself. He knew intuitively that a tragedy had occurred while he was incapacitated.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch hedged as he shuffled around to face the young genius. Reid was acutely aware of the fact that his boss wasn't moving properly. Had he really been that far out of touch since the crash that he hadn't noticed?

"I'm fine. What's going on?" Reid repeated, a hard edge entering his voice. He wasn't going to be babied. He needed to know what had happened.

"Are you up to walking?" Hotch asked. He wasn't about to discuss what he'd found in front of the passengers. He'd kept the boy from seeing his mom and had only given him a general impression of what had happened. Thus far only Jake and the male flight attendant, Tobey, were aware of the woman's state.

"Yes," Reid answered, forcing himself up to his feet. The world spun drunkenly for a split second and then righted itself. "Are you?"

Startled by the question, Hotch threw a look at Spencer. Clearly his teammate was feeling significantly better than yesterday. Just in time too. Refusing to dignify the question with a response, Hotch pulled the blankets off Reid's bed and tossed them at him. Satisfied that the younger man wasn't going to freeze, Hotch made sure his blanket was around his torso before stepping out through the rift.

OOOOO

"It could have been an animal," Reid stated as he bent to examine the woman's body. Jake and Hotch had moved it further behind the plane and covered it up. The last thing they needed was for someone to stumble on her and create mass hysteria. "But I don't think so."

"Why not?" Jake asked. He'd followed the two men outside. Something about the whole thing was setting his nerves on edge.

"While the wound is jagged, it's still too clean. A wolf or cougar would have left multiple holes, not one long gash. The intestines don't appear to have been chewed on either. The damage is limited to three puncture wounds that were probably a result of pulling them out. This was done by a human," Reid concluded. He stood up from the body and turned to face his boss. The implications were staggering. What were the chances that they just happened to have a cold blooded killer on board the plane they crashed in? Similarly, what were the chances that they just happened to crash in a location where a sociopathic killer happened to be living?

"Shit," Jake swore as he ran his hand through his hair. Looking around, he almost felt like they were being watched. All he found was snow, rock and more snow. The passengers were sequestered in the plane because of the cool temperature and strong, bitter breeze blowing down the valley. The sun that had come up at dawn had quickly been covered up by grey, low hanging clouds. Even if they were found today, there was little chance that a rescue could be launched because of the low visibility. He wasn't about to share that little tidbit with the general populace.

"Now, what happened to your leg?" Reid stated, rounding on his boss. Hotch had limped all the way out here, despite his best efforts not to. While not really remembering the crash or the aftermath, Reid was fairly sure Hotch hadn't limped when he dragged him out of the plane.

"Nothing," Hotch replied. "We need to concentrate on what this means."

"We know what it means," Reid groused. They were both highly trained profilers. They knew what kind of person could do this type of damage and still appear to be normal. Even the Air Marshall seemed to have a pretty good idea. "You're injured. We need to know the extent if we're going to come up with a plan to get ourselves out of here."

"I tried to kick in the cockpit door," Hotch admitted. His cheeks were turning a bright red but he wasn't sure if it was from blushing or from the early signs of frost bite. Damn but the wind was cold.

Reid tried to stifle the laugh, he really did. Unfortunately he wasn't entirely successful. "Were you confusing yourself with Morgan?" he managed between chortles. For some reason the image of stoic Hotch kicking the cockpit door and nothing happening was hilarious, even if it really wasn't.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Hotch responded, looking down at the body as Jake recovered it. They'd used a vinyl tarp from the cargo hold and had used rocks to hold it in place.

"Okay, sorry," Reid said when he finally got control of himself again. "Just in case it was an animal, we will have to find someplace else to put the bodies. They're going to be magnets for all types of creatures. This is an alpine environment, resources are scarce. We don't need to encourage any attacks."

"We'll have to move the bodies inside the fuselage. The rear compartment should work. We can close the door and keep the heat away from them. They're frozen, we need to keep them that way," Hotch stated as he looked between the two men. He was relieved beyond words that Reid seemed to be much better. He could tell that his head was still causing him pain because of the grimaces that passed over his face every few minutes. But at least Reid was back in the game. Their chances of survival had increased exponentially.

OOOOO

"Have you figured out how many people are missing yet?" Hotch asked. He'd cornered Tobey. The flight attendant had been going through the passenger manifest, checking off names. It was one way they were going to track down the possibility of an unsub in their midst.

"Yeah, including the flight crew, we're missing seven people. They might have wandered out after the crash and gotten lost," Tobey suggested. It deeply disturbed him to think of people out in the cold.

"That's a possibility," Hotch admitted as he sank down in his spot. Absently he rubbed at his hip. There were going to be more plans to discuss but at the moment this took precedence. Reid perched awkwardly on his seat. Hotch wouldn't hear of them trading places. "Have any of the other passengers notice anyone missing?"

"Not so far," Tobey stated. "The four missing passengers were all flying on individual tickets. They were traveling alone so they might not have been noticed. I'll keep checking."

"Thanks, let me know what you find out," Hotch said. He knew he should be doing the interviews but the passengers wouldn't ask as many questions if the flight attendant was trying to locate all the people on the manifest. If the questions came from an FBI agent, they might start to wonder. He couldn't risk tipping off the unsub, if there was one. Feeling barely rested, Hotch nodded to Jake. They had to get working on moving the bodies.

OOOOO

It was gruesome work, especially trying to keep the mother's body covered so no one could see her. Her son, still inconsolable, tried desperately to reach her, to say his good byes or to simply hold her hand, no one was sure. Still, Jake, Tobey and Hotch managed to get her inside while maintaining her cover.

Finally, the bodies were all inside, as safe as any of them from whatever lay outside. A new concern had been discovered though. All of the fuel had been burnt. All ready the inside of the plane was becoming uncomfortably cold. Someone was going to have to head down the valley to the tree line and collect wood for them if they were going to survive the night.

"I'll go," Tobey offered. He'd been watching the older man limp around the crash site and knew that his younger compatriot wasn't it much better shape despite his remarkable return to health this morning. Also, he had been watching the FBI agents and the Air Marshall. The trio were hiding things, things they considered too disturbing for general knowledge. If anything bad came up, he wanted them here to handle it.

"You're going to need help," Jake stated. He hated not going himself but he also didn't want to leave the other passengers vulnerable. Emily had not found several all 'pretty' boys. Her favourite was still Spencer but the young genius was harder to pin down. The young girl was such a happy thing, despite the circumstances that everyone was willing to indulge her.

All of the food that had been scrounged from suitcases, bags and purses had been collected and placed at the rear of the compartment. The female flight attendant, Candace, was in charge of distributing it among the passengers. Emily always seemed to wind up with an extra piece of chocolate, however. That winning smile melted even the most frozen heart.

Currently, Emily had perched herself on the lap of the young man who'd lost his mother in the night. He was past the point of crying or trying to hurt anyone. Having the young toddler sit with him seemed to calm him further.

"Your admirer has found someone new," Hotch stated. He couldn't help himself. He hated not being able to go help find wood. As much as he tried to ignore his hip, it was getting worse with the decrease in temperature. He would be a hindrance, not a help.

"That's okay," Reid responded as he watched the child. "She's good for him."

"She's good for us all." With regret, Hotch watched as a band of four men and two women set out with Tobey to find wood. They were going to have to plan for the long term. It wasn't looking like they were going to be rescued anytime soon. And it was still up in the air whether they had a psychopath in their midst. Looking around, Hotch watched each person but he couldn't pick the unsub out.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

"I think I know where they are," Penelope said, her voice overflowing with excitement. The FBI computer whiz couldn't forgive herself for missing the connection between Hotch and Reid flying back to DC and the plane crash. With all the data processing she was doing for the current case, the icon indicating the status of their flight had gone unnoticed, much to Garcia's chagrin.

"What are you talking about?" Morgan asked. He had Penelope on speaker phone. Holding his cell phone out so Emily and Rossi could hear at the same time. The trio were standing in the middle of a room where the various members called out to handle a downed plane were gathered. The noise in the office was barely low enough for them to hear but the people surrounding them didn't even pay attention to them.

"I used satellite to follow their course," Penelope explained.

"How can you do that?" Rossi asked before he thought about it.

"Well, um, I kind of hijacked feeds from nearby satellites. I might have had to get through a couple of firewalls," Garcia said, her voice indicating to all of them that her actions had been less than legal.

"Okay, never mind how you got the information, where are they?" Emily asked, keeping Garcia from incriminating herself further with so many ears around.

"I found the plane as it cleared the Rocky Mountains headed east. Then, the plane appeared to change course and head back over the mountains. That's where I lost them. From the new course heading, they must have been going to Seattle, Washington," Garcia said, talking so quickly that she barely had time to breathe. "I'm sending the coordinates to your smart phone."

Quickly checking his phone to make sure the coordinates were there, Morgan moved over to the large map that covered most of one wall in the command center. Following Garcia's directions, he located a spot on one of the mountains. His stomach plummeted down somewhere around his ankles. If Hotch and Reid had really gone down there, there wasn't much time to waste.

"Hey!" Morgan yelled, silencing the conversations going on around them. "I have a location. We need to get help up there quick!"

OOOOO

The day passed slowly. Too slowly. Reid was going out of his mind. Now that his concussion was starting to ease, he had a really nasty caffeine headache. Even the chocolate that Hotch had insisted he eat did little to appease it. Blinking rapidly as the blanket over the door was pulled back Reid felt a stab of pain slash into his forehead. It took every ounce of strength he had to stifle the moan that tried to slip out.

"How are you?" Hotch asked as he carefully slipped back into his spot beside Reid's seats. The young genius had tried to give his spot up to one of the other passengers but no one would take it from him. He had the feeling it had something to do with his thin frame. He hated it when people made assumptions about him based on his appearance. It was the story of his life, however.

"I'm fine," Reid growled as his eyes adjusted again to the darkness. He was so sick of that question. Of course he wasn't all right, no one was. Even little Emily was beginning to lose her cheery outlook. Laura was having a hard time keeping the toddler nourished. When Emily became hungry, she screamed in protest, as any toddler would. In the confines of the plane, it sent firecrackers of pain rattling around Reid's skull.

"Sure you are," Hotch breathed. He'd spent most of the day watching the other passengers, trying to figure out who was responsible for the woman's death. No one stood out. All of the passengers and remaining crew were shell shocked and no longer acting as they normally would. That made his profiling abilities almost useless. Heaving another sigh, Hotch checked his watch for the tenth time in the last hour. "They should be back by now."

"The journey to the tree line was probably a difficult one. Then they had to collect wood, bundle it up and make the return trip. It's going to take time, Hotch, even if they choose the right direction the first time," Reid reasoned, glancing at his boss. Even in the dim light Reid could see the drawn expression and pale complexion. Neither of them was doing very well. As if to emphasize the point, a chill sent a hard shudder through Reid's body.

"That's the optimistic version," Hotch said, his voice low. The fire was down to its last embers. If wood didn't show up soon, they were going to have to work at starting it again. The temperature in the plane had hovered just above freezing most of the day. That would no longer be the case once darkness fell.

"Would you like to go looking for them?" Reid asked. It was a stupid suggestion but it was the only thing he could come up with. The cacophony of sound in his head was getting worse. Blinking, he tried to lower the volume. It didn't really help.

"We wouldn't know which direction they took," Hotch replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. As he watched, one of the basketball players fed pieces of loose-leaf with writing on it into the fire, trying to prolong it.

"I didn't want to do my homework anyway," the teenager said to his teammate. "Calculus sucks."

"How many people do you think have been walking around out there? We just have to follow their tracks," Reid said. It was the last thing he felt like doing but sitting on his bed really wasn't helping either. Another shiver passed through him. Damn but it was cold. Huddling a little further into his bed, he wrapped his blankets closer around his trunk.

"We might meet them on their way back," Hotch said. He'd chosen to not see Reid tremble. He knew neither of them was really up to this but sitting still was driving him nuts. The logical thing to do was to stay with the plane. The inactivity, however, was wreaking havoc with his hip. Whatever had possessed him to kick that door anyway?

OOOOO

At least they were better dressed, Reid thought as the two of them followed the tracks in the knee deep snow. Before the BAU members had left the plane, the female flight attendant had gone through the unclaimed bags and found a heavy sweater and light jacket for Reid while Hotch was now dressed in a camouflage jacket. Unfortunately there hadn't been any winter boots among the treasures. All ready Reid could feel his shoes filling up with snow.

Trudging through the snow, Hotch was revisiting the insanity of doing this. Having to lift his legs up to take his next step certainly wasn't doing his hip any good. Despite the extra clothes, the Unit Chief still found that shivers continued to travel up his spine at odd intervals. If Hotch hadn't been so distracted, he would been aware of the sensation he was being watched.

The valley they were travelling through looked the same as it had yesterday when he'd gone in search of a fire pit. The additional snow that had fallen over night and was threatening to start again had hidden pieces of debris underneath, making walking even more treacherous.

"Maybe we should go back," Reid suggested after watching Hotch slip for the second time. The pieces of metal under the snow were like stepping on miniature sleds that sent their feet skidding several inches before they could recover.

Just as Hotch was going to agree, something caught his attention. They'd travelled far enough down the valley that they'd reached a place where the valley split into two. The tracks from the party looking for wood had continued down the wider of the two valleys.

"Maybe we should follow these," Hotch said, indicating a single set of prints that headed down the smaller of the valleys. That could explain why he couldn't pin point the unsub among their companions in the plane. The unsub could have left and there were four people who were distinct possibilities. With a glance at his team mate, Hotch stepped into the first track. He just hoped the dark clouds that were rolling in, heavy with snow, would hold off until they found the owner of the tracks.

_A/N: Sorry, I know this is short. It just seemed like the best place to leave off. I'll update again soon. I promise!_

_Susanne_


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

"I don't think this is a very good idea," Spencer called out to his boss. He wasn't sure if Hotch was thinking straight. The two of them following a killer on their own, without their weapons, didn't make sense.

"If the snow in these clouds start falling, we might never find out where the unsub is hold up," Hotch responded as he continued to walk in the tracks.

While the tracks made it easier to walk without getting his shoes full of snow, Reid was acutely aware of the fact that the span between steps was just a little more than he would normally take. That meant the person they were following was taller than either of them. Having been traveling with a basketball team, that didn't really narrow things down but it was still a detail he stashed away for further analysis.

"The snow hasn't started falling yet," Reid said. "When it does, we could get lost out here."

Hotch didn't respond. He simply kept walking. Walking seemed to take some of the ache out of his hip and was warming him up as well. He was only vaguely aware of the cold wind that was whistling down the valley against their backs.

Frustrated and scared, Reid continued to follow his boss. It seemed like the best alternative at the moment. He knew that didn't say much for the alternatives available to them. With his right hand, Reid caught hold of the top of his jacket and held it shut. A chill was passing down his throat to his chest. The cold seemed to be taking up residence in his bones. Sighing, Reid struggled to keep up.

OOOOO

The clouds made the world gradually darken around them. Reid was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the whole situation. The valley they were following was slowly getting wider. They were still above the snowline so all they saw around them were the bare rock walls, ice and snow. The chill blowing down his jacket had ceased but the young genius still felt like an ice cube.

"Hotch!" Reid called out to the dark shape now ten yards in front of him. Despite the older man's hip, he had continued to increase the distance between them. Reid was finding it harder and harder to keep up. He wasn't sure if it was because of the high altitude, his concussion, lack of food and water or just a natural response to the trauma they'd survived. Whatever it was, he desperately hoped it would go away.

The older man didn't appear to hear him. His head down, Hotch was concentrating on seeing the tracks in the dim light. One part of Hotch's mind knew he was being irrational and putting both of their lives in danger but it was the other part of him that was currently in control. One foot in front of the other, he continued along the valley floor. The snow was deep, up to mid thigh at times, other time it was ankle deep. Dimly, he heard a voice behind him. Coming to a halt, Hotch painfully turned in his tracks to stare at the dark figure several feet behind him.

"Hotch, we need to get back to the plane before nightfall. We're going to free otherwise," Reid called out. Fear was taking up permanent residence in his mind. It created an annoying buzzing sound that kept him from thinking things completely through. All he knew for sure was that he didn't want to freeze out here.

"We're almost there," Hotch called back. The more logical part of his mind took in Reid's appearance. The kid was beyond cold. Even in the dim light and the distance between them, he could see patches of white starting on Reid's cheeks and nose. He was becoming frost bitten. Bringing his hand out, Hotch touched his own face. There were numb patches there too. Damn.

Indecision burned through the Unit Chief. They'd moved too far from the plane to get back there before dark. The fact that they didn't have a flashlight meant that there was a chance they'd get lost once what little light was currently available was gone. A shiver passed through his body. They really were in trouble. Turning back toward the end of the valley, Hotch tried to think. He could hear Reid coming up behind him.

"Hotch, we're in trouble," Reid stated simply when he reached the older man. The fact that Hotch seemed to be at a loss sent Reid's level of fear several notches higher. Hotch was standing still, staring off in the distance. The wind had increased and the temperature had dropped. Reid knew they were in real danger of freezing to death. "We need to get going."

With a physical shake of his body, Hotch pulled himself out of his lethargy. Berating himself for allowing them to get into this situation in the first place really wasn't going to get them anywhere. Instead, he turned his attention to their surroundings. In the dim light, he scanned the nearest valley wall. They needed to get out of the wind ASAP. The patches of numb skin on his cheeks were slowly spreading. He was certain there were other patches on his legs, arms and back under the material of his clothes but he didn't have the strength to bother to check.

"There," Hotch said. While scanning the valley wall, he'd seen a dark spot. Hoping against hope, he moved out of the tracks and made for the area. He could hear Reid crunching through the snow behind him. After what felt like an eternity, the two men reached the wall. Reaching out, Hotch found a hole in the rock.

"Hotch?" Reid asked, unsure that this was a better idea than freezing. He'd just noticed that theirs weren't the only tracks leading to this cave. Without seeming to hear his young agent, Hotch crouched low to get through the hole and began climbing inside. "Hotch!"

Unsure of what else to do, Reid practically dove into the hole as Hotch's legs disappeared. As bad an idea as this was bound to be, he wasn't about to be left outside by himself. As soon as his head passed through the hole, all light disappeared. Fear spiked even further. As illogical as it was, Reid had an intense fear of the dark or, as he says, the complete lack of light. His chest tightening in reaction to the adrenalin passing through his system, Reid scrambled as fast as he could through the hole. Under his cold fingers he could feel gravel, then dirt.

Finally, he burst through the small confined space out into a much larger one. It took a few heartbeats for his heart to slow down enough for him to realize that something was wrong, very wrong. In a place where it should have been pitch black, he could see light. In the middle of the cave was a low fire that threw flickering images along the rock walls.

It took another four heartbeats for Reid to realize what he was seeing lumped on the ground between him and the fire. In the light from the flames, he could just make out Hotch's face. His boss was sprawled in the dirt, unconscious. Then darkness descended on Reid as pain exploded in his skull.

OOOOO

The storm had slowed them down. As much as Morgan had threatened, begged and pleaded, he couldn't get a helicopter pilot to take them up to the coordinates. Even skidoos were out of the question simply because of the amount of time it would take to get there. Instead, the FBI agents were forced to spend the night at the ranger station that housed the helicopter and its crew.

"We'll head out at first light," the pilot reassured the agents. He understood all too well their concern. He knew that if anyone had survived the plane crash that their survival time was very limited because of the cold. He could only hope that they had found shelter and some way to stay warm. The last thing he wanted was to add himself and his crew to the list of the missing by taking off in dangerous weather.

"We'll be ready," Emily assured the man. Outside the wooden structure she could hear the wind roaring around the building. Another storm had moved in. As much as she wanted to find Hotch and Reid and make sure they were safe, she also knew they didn't need to go off half cocked and create another group of people that needed to be rescued off these mountains. Looking around at Morgan, who was pacing menacingly around the room and Rossi, who was sitting quietly by the fire place staring at the flames, she hoped that they had enough time.

OOOOO

"Where pretty?" Emily asked. The toddler had spent most of the day wandering around the interior of the plane, finding interesting things to play with. Her personal favourite was a basketball that had survived the crash. If the sound of the ball ricocheting off the walls and ceiling bothered anyone they hadn't said anything. It was too much fun watching the girl and listening to her giggles.

Tobey and the others had returned just before dark, their arms loaded with too small, dry branches they'd scavenged off low growing shrubs. It was the best they could do but at least it was better than nothing. Laura looked down at her daughter. Emily's brown eyes were troubled in her upturned round face and she was no longer smiling.

"What's wrong, Emily?" Laura asked as she crouched down to face her child. She had no idea what was bothering her child. Or, more likely, she had a huge list and wasn't sure which one she was referring to.

"Pretty," Emily said, staring intently at her mother. When her mother looked back at her with somewhat of a blank expression, the child squawked in annoyance. Holding up one chubby finger, she pointed at the seat that Reid had slept in the night before. "Pretty."

Following her child's finger, Laura stared at the empty chair. Her stomach plummeted. With everything that had been going on and just trying to survive the day with her daughter, Laura hadn't had the time to think about the two FBI agents. Picking Emily up, Laura moved over to where Jake was again positioned by the entrance.

"Where are Agents Hotchner and Reid?" Laura asked the air marshal. "Everyone's inside and they're not here."

"Damn it," Jake swore as he pulled the barrier aside and stuck his head out of the interior of the plane. He too had had a busy day just trying to keep passengers from going hysterical and getting snow melted to water, etc, that he hadn't noticed the two men's absence. It was too cold and too dark to go looking for them. As hard as it was for him to make the decision, Jake knew he couldn't go outside and look for them. He had several other people to worry about. Besides, if anyone could survive a night on the mountain, it was probably them. Swallowing bile, Jake turned back to the young woman, sadness in his eyes. "If they don't get back by morning, I'll go look for them." It was the best he could do.

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm grateful for you taking the time to let me know how I'm doing. Also, thank you to all of you who put this story on your alert list. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

_Susanne_


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

It took everything Reid had to keep from throwing up. His head was pounding like a hammer on an anvil. Gulping air into his lungs, he tried to calm his stomach enough to keep the bile down. He was vaguely aware that for the first time in a while he wasn't freezing. He desperately wanted to open his eyes to figure out where the hell he was but his eye lids wouldn't obey his mental command.

A low moan a few inches from him caused Reid to jump slightly. The voice was too familiar. Hotch was right beside him. Then the memories came crashing back. Terrified, Reid tried to move his hand to touch his head. Very quickly he found out that wasn't an option. His hands and feet were tied with rough rope. There was a gag in his mouth and something wrapped over his eyes. That explained why he couldn't open them.

"Where are we?" Hotch asked, his voice hoarse and low. Well, at least that meant his boss wasn't gagged. As hard as he could, Reid rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, trying to dislodge the gag. He was unsuccessful. Shifting, Reid bumped up against his boss's back.

"Welcome to my lair," a deep, decidedly male voice rumbled from somewhere in front of him. Reid felt a chill pass through his body. There was something familiar, menacing about that voice. Frantically, he ran through the past few days trying to figure out where he'd heard the voice before.

"What do you want with us?" Hotch asked. Reid was now pressed up against Hotch's back. Under the blindfold he couldn't tell if there was anywhere else to go. A small part of him wanted to stay where he was, at least it felt safe.

"Actually, you were looking for me. I thought I'd join you in Washington but then the plane crashed. It seemed like fate wanted us to be together. Who was I to argue?" the voice said.

"You're the unsub, from Los Angeles," Hotch breathed. There was a subtle shift against Reid's front as Hotch attempted to sit up. The motion was stopped almost before it started. Hotch's breathing hitched just as the motion stopped. Under his ear, Reid could hear the older man swallowing quickly. Apparently Reid wasn't the only one suffering from nausea.

"That's right. I'm amazed you managed to put that together. You know, so far your abilities have been vastly overrated," the male voice said. "Look, as much as I'd love to spend the next while shooting the shit, I need to go get some more wood. The last thing I want is for you to get cold."

Beyond the blindfold, Reid heard movement, then Hotch was pulled away from him and a scuffle ensued. Unsure of who was winning, Reid held his breath. Above the gentle sound of the fire burning a few feet away, Reid heard the sound of blows landing and grunts. Then Hotch slumped down, almost on top of him. He knew it was his boss because of the subtle scent of Old Spice that always seemed to emanate from the man.

Silence fell. Reid desperately wanted to ask Hotch if he was all right but the gag prevented him. He felt Hotch drag himself off of Reid's torso. Then the blind fold was being removed, followed shortly by the gag.

"Are you all right?" Hotch asked, his voice hitching along with his breathing. Even in the dim light of the low burning fire, the young genius could tell that his boss had suffered the worst of the fight. Blood trickled freely from the corner of his mouth. His hands were tied in front of him, which allowed Hotch to help Reid but not gain his own feet. Watching Hotch move, Reid wasn't sure he could stand up anyway.

"I'm fine. How about you?" Reid asked as he watched Hotch try to undo his feet. The man couldn't bend well enough to do it though.

"I'm fine," Hotch grated as he tried again. It took a lot out of him to keep from crying out. How the hell had he gotten so beaten up? "What's going on? How did we wind up in this cave?"

Reid went completely still. Something wasn't making sense. He knew he should have been able to figure it out, probably a long time ago, but in his addled state he just couldn't figure it out.

"We followed tracks into this valley. We needed to find someplace to spend the night or risk freezing," Reid said. He watched as Hotch finally gave up on trying to reach the ropes on his feet. Lying back down in front of Reid, the Unit Chief had to spend a few minutes catching his breath.

"How did we wind up in this valley?" Hotch continued when he could. From his prone position, he was examining their environment. Confusion reigned in his mind. None of this was making sense. He would have been better able to think things through if there wasn't an annoying buzzing in the back of his mind. Distantly, he realized he had a concussion, possibly a severe one. That could explain the memory loss.

"Our flight crashed," Reid said, ripples of shock spreading through his body. Looking closer at his boss, he noticed in the light that one of his pupils was larger than the other. How had he not noticed this before? Or had it been made worse by the last bump on his head?

"Flight?" Hotch parroted, trying to sift through his memories to put them back in order. Ignoring the discomfort of his body, he closed his eyes and carefully sorted. Within a few minutes, he realized there was a gap in what he knew. "That last thing I recall is the little girl calling you 'pretty'."

The world shifted slightly in Reid's world. Clearly, while being injured he'd missed clues that his boss too had been among the walking wounded. Suddenly their situation seemed all the more hopeless.

OOOOO

Derek's night was spent pacing back and forth across the room. It seemed to be the longest night of the FBI agent's life, and he'd had plenty of long ones before. Emily had fallen asleep in a chair, her head propped on her arms that were resting on the corner of a desk. Rossi was sitting in another chair, staring at the darkness beyond.

The rangers managed to keep busy, to stay out of the agents' way. It seemed like the best thing to do. They were the first ones to see that the snow had stopped outside and the wind had decreased. That was good if they were going to head out at first light.

"How much longer?" Morgan asked. He knew he sounded like an impatient child. He was beyond caring.

One of the rangers glanced up at the clock. "Sun up is in 45 minutes. We'll be on the tarmac, ready to go by then," he said. He nodded at the pilot and co-pilot. Picking up their bags, the two men pulled on light jackets and headed out. They wanted to be ready.

"Get some food and coffee," the ranger said, looking at the agents. "It's going to be a long day and you'll need the energy."

OOOOO

Penelope's coordinates were off. They were currently hovering above a valley. At one end it had shrubs lining it, at the other it was snow filled. The most obvious thing in the valley was the complete lack of people or anything mechanical. If the plane had gone down, it hadn't done it here.

"What about the transponder?" Morgan asked as he scanned the ground below the hovering helicopter. He was so sure that Garcia had it right. Not finding anything had put a crushing weight on his chest. It was so hard to keep from giving up completely. The only thing that kept hope alive was how well he knew Hotch and Reid. The two agents would do everything in their power to survive.

"We've been trying to find it since the plane disappeared. So far we've had no luck. We should have been able to follow it all the way from the air port. None of this is making a lot of sense," the ranger stated. He'd spent far too much of his career searching for downed planes. This one was definitely the largest he'd looked for. It should have made it easier, not harder.

"What's that?" Rossi called out. The older agent had been staring out the window toward the back of the helicopter. He figured there were enough eyes looking forward maybe they'd gain something by looking back. Pointing at a spot of darkness among the white snow, he glanced at the others. It looked incongruous, completely out of context.

Within minutes, the copter put down at the wider end of the valley. Trekking through the snow was harder than Derrick and Rossi had expected. Emily soon outdistanced them as she strode to the spot Rossi had pointed out. She'd grown up moving all over Europe, she was more used to skiing and hiking on mountains.

Reaching the spot, she knelt in the snow and carefully brushed the cold, white accumulation off. Underneath she found a jagged piece of metal. Digging it out, she held it up for the others to see. "What do you think this belonged to?" she asked.

The pilot took the small piece from her and examined it closely. "It is part of a plane," he said, looking up. "It's been snowing and that's hidden the debris path. We'll keep looking further up the mountain."

OOOOO

As soon as the eastern sky began to lighten, Jake loaded up a backpack and headed out. He'd told Laura and Tobey to make sure someone knew where he was headed. The last thing they needed was for someone else to get lost. The snow was still falling this high up on the mountain. He knew the chance of tracking the two men was slim but he had to try.

Making his way down the valley, the sun came up over the rim. It seemed to scare the last few snow clouds away as it slowly made its ascent through the sky. The new snow made the going even harder than it had been before. By the time Jake reached the y in the valley, he had begun to sweat heavily despite the cool wind blowing.

Pausing at the y, not really sure which was the best way to go, the Air Marshall stopped and dug a water bottle out of his pack. Two quick swallows as all he'd allow himself. When he found Hotch and Reid, the two men would need as much water as he could bring to them. Wiping the back of his mouth on his sleeve, Jake scanned the valley walls, hoping for some form of divine intervention.

The sound started out quietly. At first he wasn't even sure he heard it. Then the steady thrum of an engine gradually became clear. Looking down the valley on the right, he saw a glint of light off in the distance. Hope tried to pry its way into his heart. Maybe, just maybe, they were going to be found after all.

The engine got louder and the glint turned into a helicopter. Staring at it as it covered the distance between them, Jake wasn't sure whether he was seeing things or not. Then the vehicle was within five feet of him, hovering just above the valley rim. The valley was too narrow here for it to land.

Shielding his eyes from the wind and snow kicked up by the rotating blades, Jake didn't see the two men repel down the side of the helicopter until they were crunching through the snow towards him. One of them was a well built, dark skinned man who had an intensity that almost burned him, even from this distance. The other was dressed as a ranger.

"Hello!" the ranger called to be heard over the noise of the copter. "We're searching for a plane crash. Are you one of the survivors?"

It seemed like a really stupid question. Of course he was a survivor. No one prepared for being up here would be dressed like him. But, the marshal supposed, they had to ask.

"Yeah, I'm Air Marshal Jake Thurston. The cockpit of the plane is detached, we're not sure where it went. The rest of the plane is further up this valley. I'm down here looking for two men who went missing yesterday," Jake said. The imposing man looked at him all the closer with his dark, piercing eyes. He had to be an FBI agent. Well, if it wasn't, he should be.

"Special Agent Derrick Morgan," the man identified himself. "Two of my team mates were on that plane Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner and Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. Are they among the survivors?" Morgan wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer but he couldn't wait to know either.

"Aaah, yeah," Jake hedged, glancing at the other man. "They survived the crash but they're the ones I'm looking for."

"Damn it," Morgan swore, turning away from the man. He had a near overpowering need to hit something.

"We need to get to the other survivors," the ranger said, looking at Morgan. "I know you want to find your people but we've got to deal with the ones we can find first."

Running a hand over his near bald head, Morgan paced a few steps. Looking around the valley and the unblemished snow, he knew the man was right. Even though Hotch and Reid were out here, they had to save the ones they could and then try to find them. He hoped desperately that they could hold on. Turning back to the two men, he nodded his head. "Lead the way."

_A/N: I admit. I don't know if any of this is medically accurate. I just knew that I couldn't get Reid and Hotch separated from the team and the other survivors unless Hotch wasn't thinking straight. If I'd had the unsub kidnap Reid, Jake wouldn't have let Hotch go looking for him alone. The same held true if I had the unsub kidnap Hotch. Anyway, it all makes perfect sense in my own mind. Yeah, that's where my screen name comes from. ;)_

_Thank you so much for the overwhelming response to the last chapter! Since so many people took the time to review I figured I'd update this story first of the four stories I'm currently writing. So you know what to do to get another quick update (yes, I'm shameless). Well, not really. My stories kind of take residence in my mind and won't leave me alone until I've written the ideas down. I'm a little compulsive that way._

_Thanks for sticking with me and for all the alerts! Knowing that so many people are waiting and enjoying my story does help to keep me motivated! I hope you liked this chapter. Things are going to get a little more exciting from here on out!_

_Susanne_


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Well, what's this?" The voice jolted Hotch out of a deep sleep. The BAU Unit Chief didn't recall closing his eyes or falling asleep. His head injury must be worse than he thought. Blinking against the sudden, painful light, he looked around the cave. He was somewhat disconcerted to realize that the blinding light that had tears running down from the edges of his eyes was in fact the low burning fire a few feet away.

"I knew I shouldn't have left the two of you alone," the voice continued. Ignoring the pain, Hotch pulled his eyes away from the fire to stare at the huge figure that blocked out the light. In a nanosecond, Hotch's brain rebooted and all the pertinent information was back. Well, almost, he still didn't remember the crash or the decisions that resulted in them being held captive. Those, he really wished he could remember so he knew how to keep from doing it again.

"What are you talking about?" Reid asked. He tried to pry his stiff body off the ground behind Hotch to get a better view but it took almost more than he had. Finally, he wound up propped against Hotch's back.

"I knew that you two were..." the man seemed to be struggling for an appropriate word. The fact that the fire was behind him made seeing his facial expressions impossible but disgust dripped from his voice. "...sinners."

"Depending on which of the popular religions you are framing the word 'sinners' with, that could mean a great many things," Reid spouted automatically. "In fact,..."

Hotch elbowed Reid in the shoulder as best he could with his hands tied in front of him. This was not the time to be running through facts. He understood that it was one of Reid's defence mechanisms when he was nervous but it wouldn't help them at the moment.

"Lust, gluttony, pride, envy, sloth, anger and green. The seven deadly sins. The two of you are examples of two of them. Lust and pride," the man growled. Without speaking further, he moved forward in a flash and struck Hotch in the stomach with his closed fist. Air whooshed out of Hotch's lungs as he was forced back against Reid's body. His diaphragm temporarily stunned, it seemed like an eternity before he was able to draw another breath.

"Lust? Pride?" Reid parroted, trying to distract their captor from the still struggling Hotch. "How do you think that we sin in these ways?"

"You obviously lust for each other," the man grated. As if to emphasize his point, he tried to send a well aimed kick at Hotch's groin area. Fortunately, Hotch was aware enough to turn at the last moment. Unfortunately, that resulted in the kick making contact with his all ready sore hip. A low moan escaped as the new pain registered. "Are your pride is what brought you to my door step."

Their captor didn't even seem to care that he didn't hit Hotch where he aimed. The sound of pain seemed to satisfy him. In fact, Reid was sure he heard a quiet chuckle below Hotch's ragged breathing. A chill of disgust and revulsion tried to spread down the young genius's spine.

"Neither Hotch or I are gay," Reid tried to reason with him. "We certainly do not 'lust for each other."

"That is what you say but I've seen with my own eyes how you huddle together. The lust was plain in every position," the man said. Just as Hotch had begun to revive a little, their captor sent another kick aimed at his groin. This time, Hotch only managed to deflect the blow with his arm. A loud crack split the resulting silence, followed shortly by a stifled scream from Hotch.

"Leave him alone!" Reid cried, trying rather unsuccessfully to position himself in front of Hotch. All he really managed to do was to drape his upper body over his boss's stomach. He was eternally grateful that Hotch had all ready moved his broken arm out of the way.

"Lust. Just as I said," their captor said. Stepping over the trembling Hotch even as he pulled his large frame into a fetal position, the man caught hold of Reid's closest shoulder and pulled the lanky profiler off of Hotch and effortlessly threw him against the back wall of the cave. "I will have to beat that sin out of both of you."

Reid was only dimly aware of the man's approach as he slid into darkness. His head had struck the wall with sufficient force to lose consciousness.

OOOOO

Loading the survivors up into the helicopters and flying them to safety too much longer than Morgan had hoped. While he realized that it was a necessary delay, he was still chafing at the bit to go searching for his team mates.

As the sun continued its trek across the sky, Morgan began to pace when he wasn't needed. Jake had helped fill each of the copters as they landed but the Air Marshall wasn't showing any signs of wanting to leave.

"There are only two more helicopters after this one," Morgan said as he shielded his eyes from the snow the departing machine kicked up into a miniature blizzard.

"I won't be on either one," Jake stated. He'd made sure to get a supply of water and energy bars from one of the medics. After gulping down one bottle of water and three energy bars, he still had enough to last for four days on the mountain. The medic had also given Jake his warm winter jacket and his boots. Luckily the two men had been the same size. "I don't plan on leaving until all of my passengers do."

"I didn't know the Air Marshall had a motto," Morgan responded. He'd noticed the improvement in the man's attire. He'd just assumed it had to do with the fact that he'd been woefully underdressed before.

"We don't. Well, we do but if I told you, I'd have to kill you," Jake joked. "Serious, now that young Laura and her daughter, Emily, are safe and these others soon will be back with their families for burial, I intend to make sure your Agent Hotchner and Reid also make it home safely." Now that all of the living passengers were gone, the rescue parties had turned their attention to the bodies at the rear of the plane.

"You do know that this is what we're trained for, right?" Rossi asked. The Marshall's dedication to duty was admirable but he too had survived the plane crash. In good conscience they should have forced him to get on board the last copter. These next two loads were going to be grisly.

"I know. But I feel responsible for their wandering off. Your Dr. Reid was thrown about pretty good in the crash, as was Agent Hotchner. There's no way they should have been out there wandering around. Agent Hotchner has a bad hip. I just can't imagine what would have pulled them off the trail the others had made," Jake said. Behind him, the rescue crew was moving the mother's body. Unaware of the damage done to it, they were completely unprepared for her bowls to spill out of the wrapping.

"What the hell!" the younger of the two men hissed as he danced to get out of the way. All ready his face was turning green as nausea reared its ugly head.

"I think there's something else I should be explaining," Jake said, running a hand through his hair. He'd been hoping desperately that the two agents would have been here to fill in their team mates. They had more idea of what was going on. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Jake moved over to the woman's body where the two men had placed her on the compacted snow and pulled the covering away.

The growling feeling of dread that had been trying to take up residence in Rossi's stomach suddenly built an entire apartment building. Their problems had just multiplied.

OOOOO

Twenty minutes passed slower than Hotch thought was possible. The unsub, he vaguely remembered his name to be Melvin Simpson, seemed to take extraordinary joy out of beating them. Hotch hurt in areas that he hadn't know had so many nerve endings. It was almost worse than being stabbed by Foyet, almost. His skin felt tight and sore where multiple bruises were trying to emerge.

"I'm hungry," Melvin suddenly announced. He'd moved Hotch across the cave from Reid. There was a corner where he'd backed Hotch into during his attack, preventing him from moving away. With his hands and feet still tied, there weren't a whole lot of options for escape.

Kicking Hotch one more time in the lower stomach, Simpson moved over to the fire and began banging pots around as he prepared a meagre meal. Breathing carefully, Hotch tried to dissipate the red tinge that had descended over his vision. He knew it was from not breathing properly. It took almost a herculean effort to draw even half a lung full of air around the bruising and cracked bones. The Unit Chief could tell, however, that the only thing broken so far was his arm. Somehow during the assault he'd managed to protect the injured appendage from further damage.

Lying on his side, where Simpson had left him, Hotch tried to see around the fire to where Reid was still lying crumpled against the cave wall. After beating Hotch with his fists, feet, knees and elbows, the unsub had moved onto Reid. In the muddled state Hotch had been in at the time, he really wasn't sure what he'd done to the young genius. The only thing that gave him some hope was that it didn't seem like Simpson had spent much time on Reid before he'd returned his attention to the older man.

"Have you learned your lesson yet?" Simpson asked from the fire. He had his back to Hotch, confident that his prisoner was not able to defend himself. At the present time, he was right.

The first sound Hotch tried to make came out as a low moan. Shame burned on his face before he could stop it. He knew it was what the man wanted, to hear their pain as well as see it. The more confirmation he had that he'd made his prey suffer convinced him that he was doing right. Shakily, he tried to run his tongue over his dry lips to help him vocalize. It didn't improve anything. Another low groan issued as the red haze deepened to black and then the world melted away.

_A/N: Hello out there! No, I haven't forgotten about this or any of my other stories. My muse/ambition kind of evaporated there for a few days. I'm really sorry. I hate having to wait when I'm really into a story. I just hope none of you got impatient and gave up on me. I'll always finish my stories, even if the ending sucks!_

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I found it harder to write than I'd anticipated. I'm still trying to decide on whether Melvin is going to do REALLY bad things, sexual things, to Hotch and Reid. For once I just can't seem to make the unsub do it. We'll see if I change my mind. If I do, I'll put a warning at the beginning of the chapter. If I can't, I hope I don't disappoint too many of you._

_Thanks for sticking with me and for sending me such wonderful reviews. They absolutely make my day, no matter what else is going on!_

_Susanne_


	12. Chapter 12

**Warning: This chapter contains scenes of violence of a sexual nature but no rape. Sorry, I couldn't do it. **

CHAPTER TWELVE

The world was full of pain, cold and darkness. Struggle as he may, Reid couldn't seem to convince his body or his consciousness that it was worth coming back to. There was a reason he desperately needed to open his eyes, to know what was going on. But for the life of him, at the moment, he was unable to remember why.

Lazily, Reid felt like he was swirling around a drain, not going down but not stopping the continual motion either. Images from his life floated by, swirling toward the drain. Some of them, the young genius wasn't sorry to see them go. Two in particular washed over him, through him before they continued with the motion of the spiral. The day he'd had his mother committed brought emotional pain beyond imagining, in ways even worse than being tied to a goal post in high school. The time he spent in the shed with Tobias, his father and the angel brought physical pain.

Finally the world stopped spinning but the pain from the memories continued. If anything, they were steadily becoming worse. Gasping against the agony, Reid felt ribs rub together as explosions of searing fire wrapped around his right side. A low groan escaped from his lips as the world came crashing down on him.

Reid could feel the cold dirt pressing against his left side, leaving him bone chillingly cold and numb. His back was marginally warmer than his front but just barely. His left arm was twisted badly beneath his body but he couldn't seem to muster the strength to do anything about it. Prying his brown eyes open, Reid was only marginally surprised to see nothing but a stone wall in front of him. Somehow that explained so much.

Unable to draw a full breath, Reid restricted his breathing to shallow, slow inhalations and exhalations. Anything else was beyond him. Unfortunately, that left him with little breath to do anything else. The world had begun to spin again, only slower this time. Reid wasn't sure if that was better or not. Along with the spinning had come a near overpowering nausea.

For a brief moment, Spencer swore he could smell fish guts burning in the corner of the room. That did him in, the pain was excruciating as his stomach heaved and whatever was within it came out. He was grateful that he was already on his side because he didn't have the strength to roll over. The heaving continued, sending radiations of pain through the young genius's entire body. He couldn't breathe properly, he couldn't move to relieve the spasms of pain and there was nothing he could do about it. Finally his mind did the only thing it could do to protect him, it shut down and he plunged into darkness.

OOOOO

The fire had died down now. In its dim light Hotch could only see Reid's back. As he watched, however, he saw the younger man's thin frame stiffen. The only thing he could think of was that Reid had gained consciousness and the pain of his beating had finally registered. That was something Hotch could definitely relate to.

The Unit Chief had come around ten minutes ago. The pain was beyond imagining but he'd managed to separate himself from it to some extent, enough that he could stay conscious anyway. He wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious but it was long enough for Simpson to have finished preparing and eating his meal. The faint scent of the food made Hotch's stomach rumble loudly. He had no idea how long it had been since he'd last eaten but he was starving.

"Hungry?" Simpson asked. He'd just wandered back into the cave, his arms loaded down with wood. Grinning, he dumped the wood on the side of the fire, between Hotch and Reid. There was no way he was going to let the two men reach each other again. The lust the two men obviously felt for each other sparked feelings in Simpson that were dirty, ungodly.

"Please," Hotch managed, his voice cracking. "Check on Reid."

"_Please, check on Reid," _Simpson parroted, ridicule heavy in his words. "Why? So you can see his pretty face again? No, you've seen enough of him all ready."

"He was vomiting. Please check that he didn't inhale any of it," Hotch pushed. His voice was brittle from pain, fear and dehydration. If there was any way he could have moved, he would have checked on Reid himself. His body, however, flat out refused to obey any orders.

Staring down at the dark haired man's dark, concerned eyes, Simpson weighed the possibilities. He didn't want the FBI agent to think he was controlling him, telling him what to do. But, he also didn't want either man to die just yet. He hadn't finished purging them of their sins.

With a deep growl under his breath, Simpson strode around the fire, knelt down beside Reid and rolled the young man onto his back. He could smell the vomit before he could see it. The fact that it only contained bile was only mildly noteworthy. Reaching across Reid's torso, Simpson threw some dirt over the wet spot, extinguishing it from view as well as getting rid of the smell.

With his huge brown eyes closed, the young profiler looked so much younger and more innocent. Kneeling beside him, knowing that the man wasn't able to defend himself in any way, Simpson felt urges he'd carefully kept in check since puberty begin to rear their ugly head. Sucking air between his teeth, he pushed himself away from the boy. He was a Jezebel, trying to lure Simpson into their sinful ways. The beauty of his face, the slimness of his body both combined to torture the older man. Growling under his breath again, Simpson moved down to the thin man's spindly legs. They were bent at the knee, leaning toward his left side.

"No more," Simpson hissed. Using a foot to knock the boy's legs apart, he then ground his heel into the boy's groin. At first there was no reaction at all, unconsciousness had a firm grip on him. But as he pressed harder and more violently, the boy moaned.

"Leave him alone!" Hotch demanded, kicking himself mentally for drawing the younger man to their tormentor's attention. Clearly he had latent homosexual tendencies that his religious background wouldn't allow him to express. Why he'd pick on a heterosexual man was beyond Hotch at the moment and he didn't have time to pursue that line of thought. Struggling against his body's limitations, Hotch tried to get around the fire and the wood, dragging his injured side with his good side, to reach Reid.

The moan had changed to a muffled scream as Simpson continued to apply pressure. Reid's too long, too thin arms tried vainly to push the man off of him. He wasn't completely conscious. His subconscious mind had taken over, to protect him from the pain. Desperately, Reid tried to move his hips away from the pressure, the grinding foot. He was unsuccessful.

"No more!" Simpson shouted as he continued to press harder. He wanted to grind the boy's sexual organs out of existence. Maybe then, just maybe, he'd stop thinking about them, wondering what they looked like, felt like. Shaking his head, he dispelled the images and thoughts. Under his foot he swore he could feel a small pop, as if a bone had snapped. The scream that continued to erupt from the boy's perfect mouth rose in pitch, despite his clenched teeth.

Oblivious to Hotch's presence, Simpson didn't see the older man pull his body up the nearest wall, his injured leg and arm hanging lifelessly. He had to reach Reid, to get Simpson off of him but the distance was more than he could cover using one leg. Then the bone cracked and Reid's pain ratcheted up a notch. No longer caring about injuring himself further, Hotch threw his body toward Simpson's back.

Caught completely unprepared, Simpson was knocked off balance, stumbling several feet toward the entrance of the cave. Hotch tried to keep from landing heavily on Reid even as the younger man unconsciously rolled onto his side, drawing his knees up to protect his groin. As he went down, Hotch used his arm to try to break his fall but it didn't help much. He wound up falling on Reid's side and sliding down his back to wind up between the genius and the fire.

"Get away from him!" Simpson screeched as he turned back toward the duo. "Don't touch him!"

Rushing forward, Simpson tried to pry the two men apart. In the process, he nearly dumped Hotch into the fire. Skittering sideways, Hotch managed to avoid the worse part of the burning wood. Then Simpson was following him, his feet trying to come down on Hotch's body with force. Unable to do little more than scuttle out of the way as best he could, Hotch tried to avoid the man's too big feet.

"Please, let me check on Reid," Hotch practically begged, trying to break through the man's fury. While he continued to try to get out of the way, Hotch tried to see if Reid was okay. All he saw was the boy's thin back heaving, whether from sobs or vomiting, he couldn't tell with the roaring coming from Simpson.

"No!" Simpson shouted as his foot came down on Hotch's good arm. "You don't touch him! He's dirty, lustful, vain. He's the devil's whore!"

His back up against the wall, Hotch had nowhere else to go. His arm was throbbing from where Simpson had stepped on him but he didn't think it was broken. Looking up at Simpson's rage twisted face, Hotch thought he saw his death in the man's eyes.

OOOOO

"There's signs of someone collecting wood here," Jake stated as he fingered broken branches on the shrubs they'd found. The trio had been searching for well over four hours now with no sign of the missing men. The only thing they had found was the patch of wood that the volunteers had scrounged from. At least Morgan assumed this was the place the survivors had found wood. There was too much widespread damage to the plants for it to have been a single person.

"It's cold out. Hopefully Hotch and Reid were here too," Rossi stated. He was circling the area, trying to find tracks despite the blow the day before that had erased pretty much any chance of there being any.

"You know they didn't wander away under their own steam, Rossi. Someone has them, is keeping them from returning to the crash site," Morgan said. He too was searching for signs. He was circling around from the opposite side, planning to meet Rossi on the other side in the middle.

"We don't have any evidence of that, Derek. They could have gotten lost or disorientated during the storm," Rossi said, trying to be the voice of reason as he picked his way along the edge of the valley wall.

"Yeah, right," was all Derek bothered to say. His eyes scanned back and forth between the edges of the small field of shrubs to the valley wall. There had to be something. There had to be.

"Here!" Jake shouted, hope rising. He looked up at the two men on the outside of the field. "These shrubs have been cut with a sharp knife."

"So?" Rossi couldn't help but ask. He wasn't about to lose where he was in the search so he continued to make his way around to Morgan, scanning the ground intently.

"The others were cut with whatever the passengers could find, mostly they look like the branches were torn off the shrubs. This group of damage was done more carefully, with a sharp knife," Jake said. He was sure he was onto something. He just hoped it was enough.

Suddenly interested, Morgan took two steps towards the man. Then he saw them. Foot prints in the scrubbed snow, foot prints that led away from the direction of the crash. Looking up at his companions, Morgan felt a small smile spread across his face. This was the first clue. They were going to find them. He just hoped it was in time.

_A/N: Hi. As always I'm so sorry this took so long. Life has kind of sucked of late. Hopefully things will get better. Thank you so much for all the reviews and alerts! It's been one of the bright spots in my life, I very much appreciate them all! _

_I hope to do better with my updates but all I can promise is I'll update when I can. I hope you'll stay with me._

_Thank you so much!_

_Susanne_


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Darkness was falling. Derek knew that he should have called the helicopter to come take them off the mountain for the night at least half an hour ago but somehow he just couldn't do it. Up in the sky, where there should have been a spectacular sunset, instead were low lying, moisture laden, black/gray clouds. He didn't have to be a meteorologist to know that a storm was coming in. The thought of leaving his two team mates on the mountain for yet another storm was something he couldn't face.

Apparently Rossi and Jake felt the same way as neither man had mentioned calling in their rescue. The tracks in the snow were becoming harder to see but they were still definitely there. The person who'd made the trail obviously hadn't expected anyone to come looking for them or had expected the winds to erase what he'd left behind. Morgan was eternally thankful that he'd been wrong.

Pausing long enough to break out their flashlights and heavier coats out of their packs, the three men continued on through the barren valley bottom. The valley sides were nothing more than dark masses within the growing gloom. If there was anything of interest along them, none of them noticed in their single minded pursuit of the following the tracks. Jake did, on occasion, take the time to look around to make sure they weren't being watched by a person or wildlife. He wasn't foolish enough to think that a bear would simply be frightened by their lights. He did hope, however, that at this time of day most animals would be hunkered down in their dens, prepared for the cold night ahead.

OOOOO

Simpson was coming at Hotch, his hands up in front of him, reaching for the other man's neck. It was clear to the FBI special agent that the unsub had every intention of killing him. In his current state of injury there wasn't a whole lot Hotch could do about it. What he wouldn't give to have his gun.

Desperately, Hotch twisted away from Simpson as the man leaned toward him. The dark haired agent managed to catch Simpson's feet with his own, pulling them out from under him. It was the only move Hotch had left. All ready every ounce of strength he'd ever possessed had left his body.

Caught completely unprepared, Simpson had thought Hotch done for, the unsub fell backward as his feet were pulled toward the wall. His arms cart wheeling to try to get his balance back, he landed heavily in the center of the fire. A shriek of pain and frustration was torn from the man as he struggled to get out of the burning embers.

The fire caught hold of his clothing quickly. Within seconds of falling, Simpson's pants and shirt were on fire. As the pain registered, the man pushed off with his hands, despite the fact that this forced the embers deeper into his skin, and finally got up. The flames were still there though. Maddened by the pain and the heat, Simpson ran for the door. The only thing he could think was to fall into the cold snow and roll around to put the flames out.

Running was difficult as the fabric of his pants had melted into the skin on the back of his legs. In a jerking, awkward motion, Simpson covered the distance to the doorway. The cold night air was a welcome relief on his face but the rest of his body still burned. He could smell his sickly sweet odour of his own flesh cooking. Screaming in fear and rage, Simpson threw himself down into the nearest snow bank and began rolling back and forth in a vain attempt to save what he could.

Slumped against the wall, Hotch watched with a detached fascination as the man became a human torch and ran for the door. He knew the pain Simpson was experiencing was intense and probably over and above what he and Reid had experienced thus far but still, he took a grim satisfaction from the man's screams that chilled his heart.

Retribution would rain down on Reid and himself if Simpson wasn't too badly injured from his burns. Hotch knew this with certainty. The man wasn't done. He hadn't cleansed either of them of their sins and he wouldn't until he'd killed them. That, apparently, was the way it worked. Looking over at Reid's still heaving form Hotch shut Simpson's screams out of his mind. The only thing that mattered was that Reid was now safe. He hoped. Groaning loudly, Hotch tried to pull his injured body over to his subordinate to check on him. He managed a whole two feet before darkness crashed down on him as his injuries protested and would no longer be ignored. Slowly his dark head slumped down into the dirt.

OOOOO

Treading through the too deep snow, Morgan was regretting his decision to push on. There was no moon, thanks to the thick clouds coming in overhead, so the only light available to them was that created by their flashlights. The wind had begun to howl down the valley like a wild animal, making their trek that much more unpleasant. The wind picked up the snow and flung it into their faces, down the back of their necks and into the tops of their boots.

"We have to find someplace to spend the night!" Rossi called out against the wind. They were going to freeze if they stayed out here much longer. That wouldn't help Hotch or Reid, much less themselves.

"I know!" Morgan grated back. This was a really bad idea all around. Using his free hand the block the blinding snow, Morgan tried to scan the horizon, hoping, praying to find some refuge. Then he saw it. Blinking against the snow blowing into his eyes, Derek stared, unsure if he was actually seeing what he appeared to be seeing.

A quarter of a mile ahead of them, on the other side of the valley, a ball of flame had burst out of the wall. The wind blew the sounds of the fire's screams to their ears, standing every hair on Morgan's body on end. It was a primal scream, a scream out of his nightmares. Without a moment to think, he bound through the drifts, trying to reach the man, to ease his pain.

Behind Morgan, the other two were caught by surprise when he bound off away from the tracks. All they'd been able to see through the knife like snow was Morgan's back. Then he was running, as best he could in the hip deep snow, to their right. Not bothering to form a plan, Rossi and Jake struggled to catch up.

Just as suddenly as the run had begun, the two men came to a stop beside Morgan. The FBI profiler was standing in front of something. The snow kept them from seeing exactly what it was but the scent of burnt flesh was unmistakeable.

Moving beyond Morgan's broad back, Rossi panned his flashlight over the mass of darkness at Morgan's feet. His stomach roiled as he realized the burnt lump had once been a man. Even as the thought played through his mind, he realized that the twisted mass could not have been Hotch or Reid, the body size and shape were wrong.

"What now?" Jake called out to be heard above the wind. This didn't make any sense. Where had this person come from? Why had he been set afire? More questions tried to force their way into his mind. Irritably, he pushed them away. There would be time to deal with them later.

Looking away from the body at his feet, Morgan tried to find inspiration. In the swirling, blinding snow it was hard to see much beyond his own nose. Feeling lost for the first time since they'd begun searching for their friends, Morgan huffed out a breath and let his head drop back down to the body. It had to have come from somewhere, somewhere where there was a fire and hopefully some warmth and shelter.

Making sure his companions were following him, Morgan followed the disappearing trail the man had made. It was their only hope. Still, he pulled his gun out of its shoulder holster and braced it with the flashlight in his other hand. He wasn't taking any chances.

OOOOO

Spitting dirt out of his too dry mouth, Hotch tried to pry his face out of the soil a few feet from the fire. The warmth was welcome for a few brief moments, but then it became stifling as his exertions increased his body temperature. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, the back of his neck and down his torso as Hotch struggled to raise his body even an inch. He needed to reach Spencer, to make sure he was all right. Well, all right was a relative term. At this moment he'd settle for alive.

His arms trembled like the legs of a new born colt. Still, Hotch persisted. He needed to move, in case Simpson came back. He knew instinctively that the chances of that were slim but there was still a chance and he wasn't willing to take it.

"Oh my God," a voice breathed from somewhere nearby, a very familiar voice. Thinking he was beginning to hallucinate, Hotch collapsed to the ground. They were lost.

"Hotch?" Rossi said, stepping around Morgan who'd turned into a statue. Beyond all belief, they'd found them. Relief making him almost giddy, Rossi fell to his knees beside Hotch's prone figure. He was used to seeing the Unit Chief as a large, strong man, not battered and beaten the way he was now. Swallowing convulsively, he placed a hand on Hotch's back and carefully rolled him over. What he found rocked his world.

Physically and mentally shaking himself, Morgan stepped over Hotch. It took everything he had to keep from picking up his boss and running down the mountain with him. He knew without looking that Reid needed help too. The young genius was too quiet, too still. Those were things Reid rarely was.

Basically collapsing on the ground at his friend's side, Morgan gingerly reached out and grasped Reid's shoulder. For the first time he could ever remember, Derek realized just how very thin the young genius really was. Ignoring the mild shaking of his own hand, Derek gently rolled Reid onto his back. The loud groan that issued from the boy chilled his heart. What the hell had been going on here?

_A/N: Hello! Yes, my muse is back. For the moment anyway so I figured I'd strike while the iron is hot as they say. Thank you ever so much for all the reviews. I'm absolutely amazed at the number of readers who are actually enjoying this. I'm humbled. Thank you!_

_I'll try to update again soon but I can't promise it'll be tomorrow. I'll have to wait and see what comes up but I'll try._

_Susanne_


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Hotch," Rossi breathed as he gazed down on his boss' and friend's battered body. Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner looked like he'd gone through twenty rounds with Mohammad Ali during the fighter's prime.

There was an older wound on the right side of Hotch's face that was now freely bleeding again. Also on that side of his face was a large bruise that was rapidly swelling his eye shut as well as turning his jaw purple. His right arm was lying at a disturbing angle indicating to Rossi that it was broken. Through the rips in his boss's clothing he could see other minor cuts and deep, painful looking bruises. He was sure there was probably more wrong than he could see with his eyes alone but he was loathe to touch his friend. Somehow it seemed he would cause more pain.

"How is he?" Rossi heard Jake ask from the entrance to the cave. Even though the charred body outside was probably responsible for the two agents' current conditions, he wasn't about to make any assumptions. Even from his position, he could see that both men were in much worse shape than the last time he'd seen them. Guilt started to gnaw at his stomach. He never should have let them leave the plane.

"I'm not sure," Rossi admitted. Almost physically shaking himself out of his paralysis, he pulled his backpack off his back and began rummaging in it for the well stocked first aid kit each of them was carrying. "How's Reid?"

It took everything Morgan had to keep from standing up and pounding his fist into the cave wall in anger. As soon as he'd rolled Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid onto his back, the young genius had begun to shift around in pain and whimper unconsciously. Unsure of what was going on, he'd begun his analysis with what he could see. That only made the anger worse.

The bruises on Reid's face were fresh, except for one that seemed to originate at the back of his neck. He was pale with red patches on his cheeks and deep lines of pain made him look so much older than he was. Reid continued to shift and whimper. The sound set Morgan's nerve on edge. It was too reminiscent of watching Henkel torture Spencer.

As gently as he could, Morgan ran his hands over Reid's arms to look for broken bones. While he examined Reid's left arm he'd found hot, swollen areas but finding no obvious breaks, he turned his attention to his young friend's legs. At first everything seemed normal. Then he got close to Reid's groin area. The whimpering turned to moaning.

Feeling bile lapping at the back of his throat, Morgan moved his hand a little further up. He was unprepared for Reid's suppressed scream and him rolling violently away from his touch. Cursing a blue streak under his breath, Morgan gently but firmly rolled Reid back onto his back. The young genius pulled his knees up in an unconscious attempt to protect himself.

"How's Reid?" Rossi asked again. He'd been cleaning up the obvious damage to Hotch's face and body and hadn't taken the time to look over at his two younger team members. Reid's scream, however, had ceased his ministrations.

"I'm not sure," Morgan said as he undid the belt to Reid's pants and tried to hike them down his hips. He needed to know what had been done to his friend, no matter how much it would embarrass the young genius. The sounds Reid made as the cloth of his clothing pressed against his genitals was pitiful. Unable to stand it any longer, Morgan pulled the pants back up and sat back on his haunches while he considered his next move. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he tried to steel himself to cause his friend more pain.

Reaching to his belt, Morgan pulled out a knife. He was going to have to put the material to get at the injuries underneath. With one last deep breath, he leaned forward and caught hold of the left pant leg of Reid's pants. The cloth ripped effortlessly against the sharp blade.

As he made his way up Reid's leg, Morgan was only mildly surprised by the bruises he found on his friend's skin. Whatever had been going on here had only made the plane crash worse. Dimly, he was aware of Rossi moving over to kneel on the other side of Reid's thin body. The boy was still shifting and moaning, trying to get back onto his side.

Wordlessly, Rossi caught hold of Reid's body and tried to help keep it still so Morgan wouldn't add additional cuts to his all ready impressive list of injuries. He wasn't sure he really wanted to see what they were about to find. In all the time he'd worked with Reid, he'd always seen him as a younger brother or a son. Either image was enough to have him swallowing bile as well.

"Okay," Morgan said under his breath. He'd cut the material open as far as Reid's upper thigh. He could see distinct dark areas on Reid's skin that was setting his nerves on edge further. Being as gentle as he could, he cut further until he'd reached Reid's boxers. This was more of his friend and colleague than he'd ever wanted to see. He knew Reid was very conscious of other people seeing him naked. The experience was almost always uncomfortable for him. Not for the first time, Morgan was grateful that Reid was currently unconscious.

Shifting the blade to cut through the thin material of the boxers as well, Morgan ground his teeth as a high pitched whimper erupted from Reid. Despite his best efforts, he'd put some pressure on the blackened, tender skin underneath. He had to wait while Rossi adjusted his hold to keep Reid from pulling away from him. Finally, he cut enough of the cloth to see what lay underneath. His guts wrenched.

"My god," Rossi breathed as he took caught sight of the bruised and swollen genitals. Clearly someone had had definite issues with the young man's sexual organs. But, as awful as the damage was, it still didn't seem to account for the amount of discomfort Reid was obviously in. Pulling the fabric further open so he could get a more expansive look of the area, Rossi found what he was looking for.

Morgan knew it was bad. He couldn't remember Rossi ever swearing the way he currently was. Moving over for a better look, he still couldn't quite understand what upset the older man more than the general condition of the young genius.

Without a word, Rossi pulled the rolls of bandage out of his first aid kit. "Hold him up," he ordered, indicating Reid's pelvis.

Still unsure of what was going on, Morgan moved into a position where he could lift the injured man with a minimum of discomfort for both of them. Slipping his hands under Reid's buttocks, Morgan lifted Reid a few inches off the ground. A strangled scream was his reward. "Rossi?" he asked, unsure if causing this new pain was worth the benefit.

"Just hold him," Rossi ordered. He had general first aid, all of them did. He wasn't entirely sure if what he was doing was actually going to help or hinder but he did know one thing, Reid's pelvis was unstable. Working quickly, ignoring the feel of the young man's bones shifting under his hands, Rossi wrapped the bandage around his pelvis as tightly as he dared. "Put him down, gently."

"What's going on?" Morgan asked as he settled Reid back onto his ripped pants. Reid had stopped screaming but he was still breathing heavily and unevenly. Clearly he was still in a great deal of pain.

"I think his pelvis is cracked if not broken," Rossi stated. Pulling his pack toward him, he pulled off the blanket that had been rolled up at the bottom of it. Covering Reid quickly, he looked over at Jake, who continued to watch the entrance. "I need snow. Could you get some?"

Without a word, Jake slipped out of the cave. He was desperate for an excuse to go outside. The guilt was nearly suffocating in its intensity.

"What the hell has been going on here?" Morgan wondered. He sat back on his haunches again. Desperately he wished they were able to call in the rescue. He knew both of his team mates needed more intensive medical attention than they were able to give them.

"I don't know," Rossi admitted as he gazed at his two unconscious companions. "When he brings that snow in, place it over the swollen area, it should help."

Nodding his head, Morgan pulled his own blanket off his pack and added it to the one on top of Reid. It was the best he currently could do for his friend.

OOOOO

Within an hour, the three men had a meal started and several buckets of snow ready to replace the melting precipitation currently covering Reid's groin. All ready they could see some improvement in the young man's condition but there were no real signs that he was going to come around any time soon. That seemed to be for the best at the moment.

The fire burning a little higher, Morgan was distracting himself by fiddling with the rations they were warming up in the embers. Rossi had taken up a position along the back wall between the two injured agents. He wanted to be able to protect them against anything that came through the entrance while still being able to watch over their condition.

Jake spent most of his time going outside to get more snow. They didn't really need it but it made him feel useful. On his third trip outside, he'd taken a flashlight with him and tried to examine the charred body outside. He'd given up quickly, however, because of the snow and the wind.

A low moan off to Rossi's left drew his attention to where Hotch was lying under Jake's blanket. Hotch's left hand came out from under the confines of the cloth and reached up to gingerly touch his face. Then he was struggling desperately to get to his feet as the memories of the last time he'd been awake came crashing down.

At his friend's side in an instant, Rossi placed a restraining and reassuring hand on Hotch's shoulder and moved until he was in the Unit Chief's line of sight. "You're okay," Rossi said, trying to further reassure the trembling man. "You're safe."

"Where's Reid?" Hotch demanded as he continued to right against the older man. His thoughts were still muddled, otherwise he would have been surprised to see Rossi. As it was, it was taking a few moments for the realization to sink in. "How did you find us?"

"Reid's over on the other side of the fire. We found the plane crash but you and Spencer weren't among the passengers. Marshall Thurston came with us to find you," Rossi explained quickly as Hotch finally gave up and collapsed bonelessly on the ground. Damn but he hurt.

"How's Reid?" Hotch pressed. He could only see out of one eye. It was very disconcerting. It seemed to bother him worse than any of his other aches and pains. Then they came crashing down on him as well. Sucking breath between his clenched teeth, Hotch rode through the waves of pain, only half hearing the older man's voice.

"He's pretty beat up," Rossi admitted. "We have to wait until morning or until the storm breaks before we can call in rescue and get you two off this mountain."

"Who is the dead guy outside?" Jake asked from the entrance. The question had been burning in his mind for some time.

"The unsub," Hotch responded, licking dry lips. He was only vaguely humiliated as Rossi helped him drink water from a bottle he held up to his mouth. He couldn't remember ever being so thirsty.

"Which unsub?" Morgan asked from the fire.

"The one from our current case. He got on the plane with us," Hotch managed. Sleep was trying to wrap him in its warm, comfortable embrace. As much as he hated to admit it, Hotch was ready to get away from the pain, if only for a little while. He was only vaguely aware of it as his eye lid fluttered shut and then stayed that way.

Rossi and Morgan stared at each other. The declaration of who the man they'd seen turned into a human torch had been took a moment to click. That explained why the killings had stopped after Reid and Hotch had left town. However, they were going to have to wait to get a more exact identification of the remains outside. Pulling the food out of the embers, Morgan passed them around. They hadn't really needed to be heated but he was hoping that cooking them would improve their flavour. He was wrong.

_A/N: Thank you so very much for all the wonderful reviews! I'm amazed that so many people are taking the time to let me know what they think. It still stuns me that anyone bothers to read what I write! Thank you for that._

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I plan to have the next one up soon. Just not sure when though, sorry!_

_Thanks for sticking with me as well, I know how frustrating it gets to be waiting for an update and none seems to be forthcoming. _

_Susanne_


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

With both of the injured members sleeping, Morgan quickly became bored. There wasn't anything to do but tend the fire, replace the snow on Reid's crotch as it melted and stare at each other. He'd left his MP3 player in his luggage and so didn't even have that to entertain himself. Instead, Morgan created and examined various ways he would have liked the unsub to die. Although, he had to admit that the flaming torch was pretty imaginative.

Just as he had considered and rejected the seventh scenario, Morgan was pulled from his day-dream. The low whimpers that had still been coming from Reid with every breath had shifted to a moan. That moan was followed quickly by a rapid intake of breath and then a stifled scream.

Snapping to his feet, Morgan covered the distance between the fire and Reid's side in a heartbeat. Apparently the young genius had woken up. Only to find himself in a world of hurt, literally. His eyes were tightly closed, his hands were balled up into fists, dirt falling between his fingers, as he tried to shift around and find a less painful position. Unfortunately, there weren't any available.

"Reid," Morgan said, gently placing his hand on his friend's forehead. He wanted to make sure Reid knew he was there if he couldn't hear his voice through the noise of his pain. "You're okay. It's Morgan."

Immediately, Reid flinched away from the touch. The scream wasn't stifled any more as his body moved and the pain multiplied. Without thinking, Morgan caught hold of his thin young friend and pulled his too tall body into his lap. He wrapped his arms around Reid's trembling frame. It felt strange but right at the same time. Reid needed to be protected, especially now. There was no way in hell Morgan was going to let him be hurt again. If Morgan had ever had a younger brother, he would have been just as protective.

"Oh God," Reid breathed as the pain increased yet again. His body stiffened as the pain rampaged through his nerve endings. Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore and was about to pass out, Morgan shifted and the pain reduced, substantially. A sigh of relief huffed out of Reid's lips as his body went limp. The cushion of the older man between his sore, cracked bones and the ground felt like bliss. The fact that Morgan was warmer than the ground also helped substantially.

"You're okay," Morgan whispered as he pulled the blankets a little closer around Reid's body. He wanted to keep the kid from slipping into shock. He also wanted to help relieve as much of his pain as he could. If it meant holding him like a child, then so be it. Morgan just hoped that Reid would let him. The youngest member of the team responded negatively to being babied.

Pulling a water bottle over, Morgan unscrewed the lid and offered it to the boy in his lap. With a shaking hand, Reid accepted it and drank deeply. He couldn't remember ever being so thirsty. A quarter of the way through the bottle he stopped, though. The last thing he needed at the moment was to have to relieve himself. He could feel that the swelling in his groin had gone down but he hadn't built up the nerve to look yet.

"Where are my clothes?" Reid asked suddenly as the fact that he was only wearing the blankets registered. Shame burned on his cheeks. Clearly his team mate knew about the damage that had been done to his body. Reid wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. Maybe later he'd take more time to explore that. Maybe.

"I cut them off," Morgan admitted. "Sorry. It was easier than trying to get them off."

"How's Hotch?" Spencer said. It was easier to keep his mind on things other than his own discomfort. As much as the pain had ebbed now that Morgan was holding him, the young genius didn't want to have to face that again. Not for a little while.

"He's sleeping," Morgan responded, glancing over at Dave. The older man was checking Hotch over while he slept. It just seemed easier that way, for both of them.

"Why are we still in the cave?" Now that they were found, Reid had really hoped to open his eyes and be in a hospital somewhere. He was more than a little disappointed to find the same dank walls.

"The rescue crews took the other passengers out before the storm hit. Dave, Jake and I came looking for the two of you. Now it's storming so we have to wait until it clears up," Morgan said.

"How long will we be here?" Reid asked. He desperately wanted to climb out of Morgan's lap. It was driving him to distraction to be this close to anyone, even his closest friend on the team. As soon as he tried to move, however, he was reminded of what folly that would be. Sucking in a breath, Reid stopped and tried to relax. He was only moderately successful.

"The storm is still going strong," Jake replied from the doorway. He'd just gone out to check. The darkness was bad enough, but the heavily falling snow and the near gale force winds made it impossible to see little more than a foot in front of him. "I'm not sure it's going to calm down by dawn."

OOOOO

Rossi made sure that Reid and Hotch both had something to eat. It wasn't great but at least it was some form of sustenance. Their rations were going to run out within the day if they weren't careful but his two colleagues needed the food.

Hotch was currently propped up against Rossi's pack by the fire. He was trying to act like he wasn't in pain but out of the corner of his eye, Dave saw him flinch every once in a while. Sitting up seemed to be doing his ribs some good, though, Hotch's breathing was better, less laboured. The Unit Chief even had a little bit of colour to him.

"So," Dave said as he finished dealing with the leavings from the meal. "You said the man outside was our unsub. Could you elaborate?"

"Ahh," Hotch hedged as he tried to get a little more comfortable. With the slightest movement, his entire side seemed to spasm, taking his breath away. Closing his eyes against the pain, Aaron hoped desperately that Rossi didn't notice. No such luck. Before he could recover, Dave was there, kneeling beside him, a hand on his shoulder. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, I'm going to believe that," Rossi replied, a hint of laughter in his voice. He hated to see the younger man in pain, so much weaker than he was used to being. But, he also knew that Aaron was stubborn enough to insist he was fine even if his arm was cut off. "Maybe you should lie down for a while. We're not going anywhere any time soon."

"I thought you wanted to talk about the unsub?" Hotch asked. He really did want to lie down. Anything had to be better than the pain that still radiated through his whole body, or so it seemed.

"He's not going anywhere. We can talk about it later," Rossi said. As gently as he could, he tried to manoeuvre the younger man back toward his bed. Hotch resisted. Rossi couldn't tell if it was because he was in too much pain to move or if it was because his boss was just being stubborn.

"He's the unsub from the case in California," Hotch said through clenched teeth. He resisted Dave's attempts. As much as his body craved the ground, he wasn't ready to give up yet. Maybe in five more minutes, but not now. "He followed Reid and I onto the air plane. He had to have knowledge of our names and our plans to leave the state. I've been trying to figure out how but so far have come up empty."

While he shouldn't have been surprised that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner would have taken then time between being beaten and starved to consider the unsub, among other things, it still amazed him. Chuckling softly to himself, Dave settled down beside his boss and tried to not wrap his arms around him and force him to the ground. He knew intuitively that the younger man would resist, no matter how much it hurt. Aaron was nothing if not wilful.

"We wondered why he de-escalated after you left. We staked out his house but he never came back," Morgan said from his position across the fire. Despite the blankets and the proximity to the fire, the older agent could feel Reid trembling in his arms. Carefully, he wrapped the blankets a little tighter and tried to warm him up without moving much. The last thing they needed was for the young genius to go into shock.

"Is he dead?" Reid asked quietly. He knew he was fading in and out and not necessarily remembering things correctly but he couldn't currently remember hearing this about the unsub. It made sense in some far flung way but he had to ask.

"Yes, he is," Jake said. At random intervals, he would lean down, pan his flashlight through the hole that led out of the cave to check the weather outside. So far all he'd been able to see was a wall of white, blowing snow. He didn't want to mention it to the others but if the storm didn't ebb soon, the entrance was going to be covered. That would make burning the fire a really bad idea and rescue virtually impossible. But it would also make keep the cave warmer by diverting the howling wind from coming inside.

"Good," Reid responded as his eyes fluttered shut. Not normally a vindictive person, he had no regrets that the unsub was dead. As if to emphasize the point, Reid's groin sent more sharp pains stabbing through him. Sucking breath between clenched teeth, he tried to not let his muscles tense up as they would have. It would only make it hurt worse.

The snow had been helping with the swelling and the pain but Morgan had stopped putting it on for about half an hour. He was afraid of causing frost bite. That was the last thing Reid needed to add to his list of problems.

Silence fell over the group again as Hotch and Reid both succumbed to sleep. Hotch had remained seated but once Rossi was sure the younger man was asleep, he'd gently lowered him to the nest of clothes and blankets he'd made for him before covering him up. Rossi didn't need to ask if the storm was still blowing, he could hear it dimly beyond the crackling of the fire.

Suddenly tired beyond all belief, Rossi checked on his boss one more time. Then, he settled on the ground behind Hotch and promptly fell asleep. Across the fire, Morgan also dozed. There was nothing else to do. Not until the storm finished.

_A/N: Yeah, not one of my better chapters. Sorry about that. It was all that would come out. Thank you for being patient for the update. I know patience is not a virtue that I have in abundance so it's something I appreciate. _

_Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews! Every single one makes me smile in a time when there isn't a lot to smile about in my life. I hope to update this again soon but not sure when. I'll do my best!_

_Susanne_


	16. Chapter 16

_Hello! Yes, I'm still here. Hopefully you all are too! I'm sorry that this is so short. Unfortunately, it's all that came out. Thank you ever so much for sticking with me. I adore all the reviews and the people who put this story on alert. It makes my day!_

_I hope you enjoy the new chapter._

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Time seemed to stand still. Shifting in his position by the cave entrance, Jake looked around in the dim light at his charges. All four agents were asleep. The world outside the entrance was shifting from darkness to a dark gray. The wind was still howling outside. He could hear it and feel it in his bones.

Sighing, Jake climbed to the cave entrance. He pulled on the gloves the agents had given him before they'd begun searching and began scooping the built up snow out of the way. He couldn't risk the snow keeping the fumes from the fire inside. Carbon Dioxide poisoning was the last thing any of them needed at this juncture. It took him a lot longer than he was expecting. Luckily he hadn't waited any longer.

Finished with digging, Jake pushed the snow outside beyond the entrance. He'd thought about just pushing it to the side and letting it melt but that would create mud. Dragging Hotchner or Reid out through a pile of mud that hadn't had to be there didn't appeal to him.

Before he headed back into the confines of the cave, Jake stuck his head up out of the hole he'd just finished digging. The world outside hadn't changed much. The wind was whipping the falling snow into a white out. The only real difference was that the world wasn't quite as dark as it had been. There would be no rescue coming from the sky today. Even if they did come, Jake wasn't sure that either man would be healthy enough to move. Sighing again, Jake breathed on his fingers to warm them up before heading back down the gopher hole.

Back in the cave, Jake checked on the agents while he moved over to the dwindling pile of wood. He was no expert on the time period involved with burning wood but the Air Marshal knew they were going to run out soon. He was very grateful for the small tins of liquid fire the agents had thought to pack. They were tins of a gel burning medium that were usually used in buffets to keep the food warm. The good think about them was that they put out a fair amount of heat and very little fumes.

Picking up a few of the larger branches, he put one of them on the fire and the other one close by. Stirring the coals, he waited for the wood to catch before he returned to his position by the cave entrance. In a few hours he'd see about starting breakfast for everyone. Until then, he'd let the others sleep. He had the feeling they were going to need it.

OOOOO

The world came back slowly for Spencer Reid. He really wasn't sure he wanted to return to the real world because he knew that pain and humiliation waited for him beyond the black confines of his mind. The young genius could tell that he was still situated on Morgan's lap, hence the humiliation, and that his body was injured beyond imagining.

As the fire in his groin, side and head settled in for the long run, a low grunt escaped from Reid's lips. It amazed him that anyone could survive his injuries without going insane. The very thought sent waves of fear through his all ready ravaged body. The grunt was replaced by a cough. Before he could try to control the urge, Reid's body was doubling up as the cough moved from his throat into his chest.

The arms that had been lightly resting across his stomach abruptly pressed Reid a little tighter against Morgan's body. Then a bottle of water was being held to his lips while Spencer sucked breath back into his struggling body. The coughing irritated his side, head and groin. It made breathing that much harder. The water didn't really help much. Weakly, he tried to push the bottle away. Morgan managed to catch the bottle before any of the contents were lost.

"Whoa, breathe," Morgan murmured. He wanted to help ease his friend's discomfort but there really wasn't anything he could do. Instead, he held on, keeping Reid from winding up on his face in the dirt. The coughing fit seemed to last forever. By the time Reid had finished, he was leaning limply into Morgan's embrace, his head lolling on his chest.

"Is he all right?" Hotch asked from his side of the fire. He'd tried to stand up, to go to the youngest member of his team but Rossi had placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. In Hotch's current state, that was all it had taken to keep him on the ground in his pile of fabric. Fear spiked through him at the sound of Reid's coughing. He knew the kid couldn't handle a whole lot more. The last thing he needed was to be coming down with a cold.

"Yeah, I think so," Morgan responded. Now that Reid had finished, he moved him into a position where he could hold the bottle of water up to his lips without drowning him. He knew the young genius needed to stay hydrated, whether he wanted to or not. Derek imagined the idea of passing urine right now really didn't appeal to the genius. He couldn't say he blamed him.

"I'm fine," Reid wheezed as he drank three mouthfuls of the water before pushing it away. He absolutely HATED being treated like a child. It made him feel young and helpless, two emotions he was all too familiar with.

"You and me both," Hotch said. He was suddenly very hungry and very thirsty. As if reading his mind, Rossi handed him a bottle of water before moving over to the fire. He scrounged around in the packs until he pulled enough food out of them for everyone. He wasn't a real fan of cooking but he was capable, when necessary.

While he worked, Rossi considered whether the fumes from the fire were capable of causing such delusions of health. He had to stifle a small smile as he opened the packages. Those two were more alike than either was willing to admit.

"What does it look like out there?" Rossi asked, glancing over to the ever present Air Marshal. He was amazed that Jake had managed to stay awake while the rest of them had slept. While Jake hadn't been injured during the plane crash, he had still been through the rigors as well. If anyone deserved sleep, it was him. Yet, the man appeared to be made of stone as he sat near the entrance, watching over all of them.

"Much the same," Jake responded. "The only difference now is that it's a little lighter. The wind is still blowing and the snow falling."

"Of course it is," Rossi said, his voice low. "What else should I expect?"

OOOOO

"We've got to get up there!" Emily demanded. She and J.J. were at the station of the rescue team. Outside the wind and snow continued to howl like a banshee. It was the worst weather either woman could ever remember seeing or damning.

"We will," the commander of the rescue team stated. He was getting a little antsy himself. He knew all too well what kind of things could happen on those mountains. It was itching every nerve he had to be sitting here, waiting. He really hated waiting.

"When?" J.J. demanded. She knew these people were doing all they could. There was no fighting mother nature.

"As soon as we can," the man said. He looked around the room at his people. They were just as frustrated as he was. Just this morning he'd had a heated discussion with his top team. John Shepherd had wanted to go up the mountain by skidoo and then by foot to try to reach the party. John had been very passionate in his argument but Hank Stanley had been unwilling to risk any more lives than were all ready in jeopardy.

"How much longer is this supposed to go on for?" Emily asked. She was being careful to control her voice and temper. There was nothing any of them could do. At least she could manage was to control her temper and frustration.

"The weather service is saying the next 36 hours. It's the worst storm we've had in years," Hank responded. Suddenly, he realized something. There were four people missing from his workers. Cursing under his breath, Hank stood up from his desk and stormed over to the window.

"What's wrong?" J.J. asked, concerned. She couldn't imagine things getting any worse.

"One of my teams is missing. I think they've headed up the mountain to try to rescue your fellow agents," Hank stated. Damn them all to hell. Now they were going to be looking for nine people instead of five. Damn, damn, damn.

_Okay, time to fess up. Obviously John Shepherd is from Stargate: Atlantis. I just couldn't help myself! Hank Stanley is from Emergency! Yeah, I'm into odd combinations and casting my stories as the mood takes me. I'm not making any money from this story and plan to put everyone back when I'm done with them, reasonably intact, maybe. Yeah. Maybe not. ;) Take care!_


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The need to cough was almost overpowering but Reid managed to shove it back down. It hurt too much to cough. It hurt his throat, his chest, his pelvis and other parts he didn't want to think about. To make matters worse, every time he coughed Morgan held him a little bit tighter and tears invariably traveled down Reid's thin face. It just hurt so damned much.

"How are you doing?" Morgan asked quietly. He knew all of this was absolutely killing the independent young genius. The sensation of the bones of the younger man's pelvis grinding between his thighs made Derek's teeth itch. He desperately wished that the storm would stop and that the rescue team would hurry the hell up.

"Fine," Reid grated. They'd eaten breakfast, such as it was, and now Reid was starting to feel an unpleasant pressure in his lower abdomen. The idea of going to the bathroom was beyond excruciating. He tried to shift slightly, to find a more comfortable position for his bladder. In a nanosecond he went completely still and sucked breath between clenched teeth. It hadn't helped.

"Yeah, like I'm going to believe that," Morgan responded. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," Reid echoed. The need to bounce a knee was overwhelming but he couldn't even do that. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. If he didn't do something soon not wanting to cough would be the least of his worries. The thought of having an accident while sitting in Morgan's lap like a child would be an embarrassment that Reid would never live down.

"Bullshit. Just tell me what's wrong," Morgan pressed. He could feel the young kid just about vibrating with discomfort that didn't seem to have anything to do with pain. Not yet anyway.

Swallowing hard, Reid closed his eyes for a moment. Keeping them closed, he dropped his head and mumbled. "I have to go to the bathroom."

It took every ounce of self control that Morgan possessed to keep the smile off his face. While, the least concerning of all the possible answers, he knew all too well how much the admission was killing Reid's ego. Instead, he concentrated on the logistics of the problem. They had been using the furthest corner possible in the cave for a latrine, burying whatever was left there but that wasn't going to be possible for Reid. The kid could barely stand sitting, actually standing was out of the question.

Scanning the cave, Morgan's eyes fell on one of the empty water bottles. They'd been keeping their garbage together, intending to take it with them, if at all possible or burn it if the need arose. As much as he hated to bring Reid's current predicament to anyone else's attention, Derek knew he couldn't get the bottle without moving Reid. That would be too painful for both of them.

"Rossi?" Morgan called over to the older agent. Rossi had made sure Hotch was comfortable in his cocoon of blankets and jackets and had begun pacing randomly around the cave. He hated having nothing to do. The older agent had even begun to check his cell phone, a lot. There was never any signal, which didn't surprise him at all, but it almost made him feel like he was doing something. Dave stopped in his pacing and turned toward Morgan and Reid.

"Yes?" Rossi asked. Reid's discomfort was nearly palatable. Concern immediately jumped to the surface of Dave's mind. What now? Reid's coughing was scaring him enough all ready.

"Um," Morgan said, glancing at the top of Reid's head. "Could you bring me that empty bottle?"

"Sure, no problem," Rossi replied. He almost asked why but the reason behind the request was too obvious. With a grimace, Rossi bend down, picked up the bottle and paced over to where the two men sat. This wasn't going to be pleasant for the kid. Even with all the icing, he was still pretty swollen. Wordlessly, Dave handed over the bottle.

"Thanks," Derek said, genuinely grateful to Dave for not asking questions. Accepting the bottle, Derek nodded his thanks before turning his attention to the huddled form in his lap. "Can you do it yourself or do you need help?"

Not dignifying the question with a response, Reid glanced up to make sure Rossi and Jake weren't watching while he reached for the bottle and unscrewed the top. Swallowing his pride, Reid set about doing his business.

Once set up, Reid sucked breath between clenched teeth as his body passed water. It felt like a thousand knives being run down the inside of his urethra. It burned like a son of a bitch too but on another level it also brought relief. By the time he was done, Reid had tears once again running down his cheeks as well as snot running out of his nose. Damn but he felt young.

Without a word, Morgan wiped the tears and snot away. Reid had done it without a sound. Despite the difference in their sizes, Derek wasn't sure he would have been able to do the same given the same circumstances.

Accepting the bottle and the cap, Morgan screwed the cap on and carefully put the bottle on the ground as far away from them as he could manage without disturbing Reid. Just as the young genius's eyes began to slide shut, a cough escaped. The pain was unbelievable. That was followed by another cough and another and another.

While Morgan held on, trying to lend Reid some of his strength, he felt Reid's thin frame trembling as the coughing continued. Great, just what the kid didn't need. Within a few moments, the fit passed, leaving Reid trying to take great, heaving breaths. A few mouthfuls of water and Reid was promptly asleep, all of his strength gone.

"We've got to get him and Hotch out of here," Morgan said, looking up at Rossi. In his concern for Reid, Dave had been hovering very nearby.

"I know," Rossi responded, glancing over at Hotch's sleeping frame. The Unit Chief had barely eaten any food and wasn't really drinking either. Rossi wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep going before his organs began to shut down. As he watched, Hotch stiffened as a wave of pain passed through him. Then he was back asleep. It seemed to be Hotch's only real escape.

"Unfortunately the storm hasn't let up at all," Jake stated from his post. He'd just checked a few minutes ago only to find the same conditions as before. This had to be the longest blizzard on record, or at least it seemed to be.

"Great," Morgan hissed. Even in his sleep Reid was still trembling in his arms. This was going from bad to worse. "That's just great."

OOOOO

"This is nuts."

"Yeah, so what else is new?" John Shepherd asked. The storm continued to whip down the mountain. They'd used the skidoos to get as far up as they could before the terrain became too treacherous. Now, the rescue team leader and his three companions were hiking through the deep snow, trying to reach the crash site.

They had no idea where Agents Morgan, Rossi, Hotchner or Reid were on the mountain. The FBI agents hadn't been able to send them coordinates. Currently his plan included finding the site of the plane crash, which he did have coordinates for, and working his way from there.

The storm was going to make tracking them through the snow impossible. John was planning on searching the caves he knew existed up along the valleys below the crash site and then worrying about what came after. His snow goggles kept getting obscured by snow and melted precipitation. Frustrated, John lifted his gloved hand and wiped the moisture off. The snow and darkness were bad enough he didn't need to be any blinder than he was.

"Do you know where we're going?" The voice came from one of his two medics. Glancing over his shoulder, John grinned at the senior medic. Roy DeSoto was the best at what he did. He was the calming force among the other hot heads in his team. But, he was also more than ready to try anything at least once.

"Up the mountain. Does that help?" John responded with a quick smile. The wind kept trying to pull the words away but luckily John was at the front of the line with the wind in his face. All four men were tied off to each other. It was just in case someone fell into a crevice or slipped and began rolling down the mountain. It was also to make sure that none of them got lost in the blizzard.

"Yes, John, yes, that helps a lot," Roy responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Behind him, the next in line was his partner Johnny Gage. Having two Johns on the same team became confusing at times but so far they'd made it work.

"I'm glad I can be of service," John Shepherd called over his shoulder. His snowshoes kept him on top of the snow instead of trying to wade through the waist deep drifts but it was still hard going, especially up hill. Pulling his GPS out of his vest pocket, John quickly checked their heading to make sure he hadn't gotten turned around in the storm. It could happen all too easily.

Ignoring the bantering going on between John and Roy, at the back of the line trudged Steve McGarrett. He'd trained as a Navy SEAL before retiring from the Navy to come help his friend John with the rescue team here in the mountains. It was completely different from anything he'd done in the Navy but also the same.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Steve scanned around them. Squinting to see beyond his goggles to the snow beyond, he realized something he hadn't noticed before. The storm was letting up.

_A/N: Hello! Thank you ever so much for all the wonderful reviews! I appreciate them more than I can express and am absolutely overwhelmed by them. Knowing that there were so many people waiting for this new chapter is what kept me going. I sure hope you liked it!_

_I have to admit that I stole John Shepherd from Stargate: Atlantis. I said that in the last chapter. I've also stolen Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto from Emergency. Who else could I cast as the rescue medics? Lastly, I stole Steve McGarrett from Hawaii 5-0. What can I say? I just can't help myself. I promise that I'll return all of my borrowed characters to their original owners in more or less the same shape I took them in. Well, maybe. _

_Thank you for sticking with me. I hope to update again soon but I really should try to update some of my other stories too. Luckily or unluckily I will be spending quite a bit of time sitting around the hospital next weekend. Hopefully I'll get lots of writing done then._

_Take care!_

_Susanne_


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The night had passed slowly, so had most of the day. Jake had taken to pacing around the cave every half hour or so. He knew he should sleep. That he hadn't slept nearly enough since the day before the plane crash but he felt like he needed to stay awake, to keep watch.

Jake had had to unblock the tunnel leading into the cave three times during the night and day. He was only marginally aware of the fact that the snow had begun to slow, even stop for an hour or two. Needing to get some air before he fell asleep, Jake glanced around the cave to find that the agents were either sleeping or resting. There wasn't a whole lot else to do. Heaving a sign, Jake crouched down and made his way through the all too familiar tunnel.

There was more sunlight than he'd seen in a very too long at the end. Relief and hope blossomed in Jake's mind. Moving a little faster, the air marshal popped out of the hole and blinked rapidly. The storm had let up enough for weak sunlight to peer through the scant clouds. For the first time in what seemed like days, Jake looked around the valley. Hope was squashed. Any distinguishing features that had been there before had been completely wiped clean. The snow had accumulated more than he'd expected. He couldn't even tell for sure where the body was located. Sighing, he slipped back inside.

OOOOO

"That's the third cave," McGarrett said. The team was standing around yet another cave entrance. No one knew this area better than Sheppard. The team lead knew how many more caves they had to search. It was just beginning to wear a little thin all ready.

In the height of the storm, Sheppard had changed his plan. They'd begun to search the caves as they'd come upon them. It was hard work because most of them had their entrances blocked by snow. That required that they dug them out before checking them. Despite what people generally thought, snow, when it was blown in and compact, was pretty damned heavy.

"You know this all ready but I feel the need to say it out loud," Roy stated. "We're running out of time."

"Yeah, I know," John Sheppard replied, running a gloved hand over his red face before replacing his scarf to protect it from the biting wind.

"Next time, can we make sure the cave is empty before I climb in?"Johnny suggested as he wiped at some small scratches on his face. The animals they'd found inside were less than thrilled to see them. Johnny had had to scramble quickly to keep from getting bitten or scratched. He'd cut himself on stones on his way out.

"I thought that was your job," Roy responded with a crooked grin. It had been rather amusing the speed with which the younger man had moved. Once he realized there was no immediate danger, as the animals preferred to stay where they were, Roy had had trouble stifling the laughter that wanted to come.

"Very funny," Johnny hissed. The storm had abated enough that there was no new snow falling but the wind was still bad. It was colder than the ambient temperature. Now that he'd wiped off as much of the dirt as he could, Johnny pulled his scarf up over his face, just below his goggles.

"Enough," John said. "Let's get at it."

"After you," Roy said, sweeping an arm in the general direction uphill. Since the team lead was the first one on the rope, he had no choice but to be leading the way.

"Very funny," Sheppard growled. Making sure the others were ready, he set out again. They needed to take advantage of the break in the weather while it lasted. All ready clouds were building up on the horizon. What little sunlight filtered through the thin clouds overhead was going to disappear soon enough. "Move it."

OOOOO

Wild dreams played through Hotch's mind. He saw Jack, his ex-wife, and Foyet. Sometimes Foyet was chasing them, sometimes they were chasing Foyet. None of it made sense. They were random images, sometimes in order, sometimes not.

Waking in a cold sweat, Hotch tried to sit up abruptly only to have his body bring him up short. Gasping against the pain, Hotch blinked in the dim light of the cave and tried to remember where he was. The scents and sounds of the cave seemed familiar but for three seconds the BAU unit chief couldn't recall where he was.

"Are you okay?" Rossi asked from somewhere off to Hotch's right. In his struggle to sit up, Hotch had gotten as far as his elbows. His head hung a little farther down than it normally would. Fire burned in his arm and his side. Memories flooded back. Damn.

"I'm fine," Hotch responded. He wasn't and he knew it but it was automatic. A quick inventory of his aches and pains reaffirmed that he really wasn't okay.

"Yeah," Rossi scoffed, trying to keep the smile on his face. At this point he was just happy to see the younger man awake. He was really getting worried that Hotch had been injured much worse than he'd imagined, worse than he was able to deal with given his limited medical provisions.

"What time is it?" Hotch asked. He hated not knowing what day it was or what time. He was too used to being in control of his world. Automatically, he glanced at his wrist to see if his watch was there. He was only mildly surprised to find it wasn't.

"2pm," Rossi responded. "Why? Do you have a date?"

Ignoring the question, Hotch countered with one of his own. "What day is it?"

Before Rossi had a chance to tell him, across the cave Reid began to cough. The dry, hacking sounds were hard to listen to. Forcing his protesting body all the way up into a seated position, pain be damned, Hotch looked over the low burning fire to see Reid still clutched in Morgan's lap. The young genius looked so very small and young and vulnerable in the bigger man's arms. The first thought that came to Hotch's mind was that Reid would hate this under any other circumstances. He knew that he hated it as well.

"He's getting worse," Rossi said quietly. He had moved over closer to Hotch, just in case the younger man needed help. He knew Hotch wouldn't ask for it.

"How much longer can we stay here?" Hotch asked. The coughing continued. Even in the dim light, Hotch could see the pain Reid was going through with each explosive breath. They were running out of time, quickly.

"The snow is ebbing. The wind hasn't so far," Jake stated from his usual position. Despite the coughing coming from Reid, the other men's voices had floated over to him. With everything else going on, he figured the agents hadn't noticed the change in weather.

"Things are looking up," Rossi quipped. Reid had finally stopped coughing. Over on that side of the fire, Morgan was trying to comfort the thin man in his lap. The coughing had taken every ounce of strength out of Spencer. Silently, Morgan wiped again at his face to get rid of the tears, snot and spittle. While he did it, he glanced over at the others. Strangely, he suddenly felt the need to turn Reid away from them, to protect his friend from further indignity and keep them from seeing him in this state.

The thought vanished as he turned to his task. The only thing that mattered to Morgan right now was that Reid was all right. That he was as comfortable as possible. He trusted Rossi to watch over Hotch. He didn't have enough time or energy at the moment to be responsible for both of them. His back ached from keeping his current position for so long but he wasn't willing to move and cause Reid more pain. That wasn't acceptable, not at all.

"We need to get out of here," Hotch stated. His arm kept trying to crumple underneath him. Hotch knew that it was broken because he could feel the bones shift against each other. Gritting his teeth, the Unit Chief finally gave in, pulled the injured arm across his stomach and used the good one to prop his body up. Within seconds, his good arm began to tremble with fatigue.

"More than you know," Rossi breathed as he watched the tremble turn into a full on rumble.

OOOOO

"We're going to have to find some place to spend the night," Roy said. There was still a few hours of sunlight left but the temperature was all ready dropping. Even as active as the four of them were, snowshoeing over the snow, hiking up the mountainside and digging holes in the snow, they were going to start feeling the effects of hypothermia soon.

The wind continued the howl. The sky was starting to clear after the clouds had passed. None of them expected the helicopters to come out. The wind was too strong. On the mountainside the peaks and crevices caused the wind to be unpredictable. There was no way a pilot would risk himself, his crew and his machine to come up the mountain. Luckily, the skidoos were less fragile.

"There are two more caves up this valley. We'll check the first one and stay in the second one," John Sheppard stated. He was tired. It had been a damn long day. The snow and wind was only part of it. Climbing up the mountain in snow shoes definitely didn't help. He glanced over his shoulder, down the line of men following him. They were all in excellent physical condition, they had to be, but all three men's shoulders were slumped a little in exhaustion.

"We're getting close to the crash site, aren't we?" Steve called from the back of the line. He didn't know the mountain as well as the others, being the newcomer, but he still had a very good sense of direction and had spent many a night pouring over maps of his new patrol area.

"Yeah," John replied. The wind made it hard for Steve to talk to John, he had to yell to be heard, but it made it so much easier for the leader to talk to the others. The wind carried his voice in nanoseconds. "We'll reach it within three hours in the morning. For now, let's keep going."

Putting their heads down against the bitterly cold wind, the four men continued to crunch through the cement-like snow. Johnny had considered changing out of his snow shoes, they made walking so much more physical than it had to be, but he knew there was always a chance of a soft spot and winding up up to his hips stuck in snow. He was cold enough and wet enough all read, he didn't need that to add to his current discomfort. He knew the others were feeling the same. Despite their winter clothing and their cold weather conditioning, the wind always found a way to slip inside a sleeve, down the neck, along the neck, or any other spot where sections of fabric met and chill them to the bone. The snow didn't help a lot either.

"Are you going to climb in and check for critters this time?" Johnny called up to Roy. It had become a running joke and he wasn't sure he liked getting the brunt of it. After the second time of being chased out by a bobcat, he had lost his sense of humour.

"Nah," Roy said over his shoulder. "I think you've got that down pretty well." The wrap around the older man's face hid the grin. As funny as it was, he was just glad that Johnny hadn't been hurt by his encounters with wild animals. The last thing they needed was to have another injured person to deal with. Still grinning, the paramedic concentrated on keeping up with Sheppard. The team lead was setting a fast pace.

OOOOO

"It's stopped snowing. Why aren't the helicopters in the air?" Emily demanded. She knew she sounded like a bitch but she didn't particularly care. They'd been waiting for far too long for the rescue teams to get off their asses and into the helicopters. With every passing hour, the tension between her shoulder blades and in her stomach intensified. Glancing over at J.J. she knew her teammate was feeling pretty much the same way.

"You're right, the snow has stopped," Hank answered patiently. He had spent far too many hours in the command post, they all had. He understood the impatience and fear wearing on the two female agents but he wasn't willing to put more people in danger. It was bad enough that Sheppard and his crew had snuck up the mountain. "But the wind hasn't. I can't send a crew out in this. The copters are grounded until the winds die down."

"When is that supposed to be?" J.J. asked. She had stopped pacing, her legs hurt too badly. She was worried about her husband and her son. She hated being away from them for this long but she couldn't abandon the rest of the team either. Penelope had made arrangements to fly out here too but she and Emily had vetoed that. They needed the computer whiz right where she was in case they needed more satellite photos examined or for anything else relating to tech support.

"The latest reports say by tomorrow morning. The winds will be low enough for the helicopters to fly safely. Please, just be patient. We're doing everything we can," Hank said. His butt was sore from so much sitting but there was only so much room in the command center and one pacing person was enough.

"Fine," Emily growled as she moved over to her seat. Slumping down into it, she crossed her arms over her chest and settled in to wait, again.

_A/N: Hello there! I hope you're still with me! I know it's been a long time. I've been trying to write this story and the other three I have going but real life keeps interfering, that and a definite lack of ability to concentrate. My dad came through his surgery fine. Now, we get to wait for seven weeks, to find out if its cancer and if they need him to go through chemo and radiation. But dad's home and we haven't had to call homecare in in the middle of the night to unplug his catheter in weeks. Life is looking up!_

_Well, enough complaining. I hope to update my other three stories shortly and I'll update this one within the week, I hope. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me. Your reviews and support mean so much to me! _

_Bye for now._

_Susanne_

_P.S. Thank you very much for pointing out that I spelt Sheppard's name wrong. I'm terribly sorry, it was a momentary lapse. I plan to edit the last chapter once I post this one. Thanks again for pointing that out!_


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The rescue team was trudging up the latest valley. It looked just like the other ones they'd passed through during their search. That is, until Sheppard paused in their ascent long enough to wipe moisture off his goggles yet again. Cursing under his breath at having to take the time, John gazed up above them. It was then he noticed the change in the landscape. Completely ignoring the cave they were closest to, John headed out.

"What about...?" Roy began. Then he was struggling to keep up. The leader of the team was as close to running as the snowshoes would allow. This was one of the few valleys Roy knew well. He knew that they were passing the nearest cave without even pausing to look at it. He hoped that it was a good sign.

OOOOO

Rossi was preparing to spend another night in the cave. Their rations were down to scraps. Searching through the backpacks once again, just in case he'd missed something the last six times he'd checked, David felt desperation starting to gnaw at him. They were in trouble.

"Everything all right?" Jake asked. He'd left the entrance to pace around the cave. He was getting tired and needed to move to wake up. During his circuit, he'd seen Rossi's face and knew something was wrong.

"Sure," Rossi responded. He knew it was a lie but he didn't want to voice his concerns so the others could hear him.

Even from the ten yards distance between them, Jake knew the older man was lying. He chose to accept his answer at face value. Whatever was going on wasn't going to be better by him demanding answers.

Reluctantly, Jake headed back to his position by the door. Settling in, he glanced down the hole. For a split second he thought the snow had filled the entrance again. Then he realized the darkness was moving. Backing away quickly, Jake searched frantically for a weapon. Anything. "There's something coming in the entrance!"

Instantly on guard, Rossi pulled his gun out of its holster that had never left his hip. Striding to the entrance, Rossi moved between Jake and the threat. As well trained as the Air Marshal seemed to be, Dave wasn't going to let him be the last line of defence between his friends and whatever was coming in. Flicking the safety off with his finger, Dave crouched down, prepared to fire despite the dim light of the fire.

"Don't shoot," a male voice called just as a dark shadow climbed out of the entrance. "We come in peace."

"Who are you?" Rossi asked. He knew that was a stupid question. Either they were friend or foe. Considering that the unsub was a Popsicle outside the door, the chances of them being foe was greatly reduced.

"I'm John Gage. My team has been sent to assist you," Johnny assured the armed man as he scrambled into the cave. Right behind him can Roy, Sheppard and McGarrett. Sheppard had avoided the first cave in this valley as soon as he'd seen the snow piled up around where the entrance for the second cave would have been.

"It's about time," Jake muttered from behind Rossi.

"What kind of injuries are we looking at?" Roy asked as soon as he was upright again. Immediately he began rummaging in his bag as he looked around the cave.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Rossi informed the men of the injuries he knew about. The Supervisory Special Agent hated to admit just how deeply relieved he was to be able to hand this off to someone with more medical experience. He knew damn well he was way over his head here.

Nodding to Johnny, Roy headed over to Morgan and Reid. He knew based on the injuries that the young man was going to be a more troubling patient. Holding his hands away from his body, Roy knelt down beside the glowering dark skinned agent. Clearly, he was very protective of the younger man. Glancing over at his own partner as Johnny began assessing Hotch, Roy could understand.

"How's he doing?" Roy asked as he pulled his backpack off his shoulders and began to spread out its contents.

"He's had better weeks," Morgan responded. He loathed the idea of letting the other man touch Reid. The kid had finally recovered from his last coughing fit and had fallen asleep. "He's developed a cough on top of everything else. It's taking all the strength out of him."

"Well, let's see what we can do about that," Roy stated amiably. "Can he lie down at all?"

"Not without a great deal of pain. I think his pelvis is cracked or broken," Morgan replied. He still held Reid. He really didn't want to hear the younger man react in pain to being forced to lie down.

"Ok," Roy said. Sitting back on his haunches, he took a moment to think his options through. Once the helicopter was here they would have to secure the thin young man into a Stokes stretcher. That would be very unpleasant for him if his pelvis was indeed broken. The trip down the mountain in the helicopter would be agony for him too. "First thing is to examine him as best I can. For that to happen, I could give him some morphine."

"No morphine!" all three agents responded almost in concert. Despite being examined himself, Hotch had been listening, as had Rossi. All three men knew about their young colleague's fight with drugs. They also knew that if Reid were awake, he'd refuse the morphine as well and just as loudly.

"It will help with the pain I'm going to have to cause him to do a proper exam," Roy insisted. He hated causing pain when it wasn't necessary. Examining this young man was going to cause him considerable discomfort that morphine could help alleviate.

"No morphine," Morgan hissed, holding Reid a little tighter. "Tylenol, Aspirin, ibuprofen, nothing stronger."

"Ah," Roy said. The reasoning behind the men's demand was too obvious to voice. Gazing down at the young man, Roy took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be pleasant, for either of them.

Across the room, Johnny was examining Hotch. The older man grunted a few times but otherwise remained mute during most of Johnny's poking and prodding. He spent more time watching and listening to Roy with Reid. He was scared for his youngest member. He'd been through so much and had so much more to go through.

"When are they coming to get us?" Hotch asked, glancing at the young paramedic checking his wounds.

"First light," Sheppard responded for Johnny. He'd slipped out of the cave and radioed headquarters. The plan to get them out was being formulated while they attended to their wounded. "There isn't enough daylight left for them to get here in time."

"You planned on this, right?" Jake asked. Now that the cavalry was here, he felt kind of like a third wheel. He also felt very tired. "You have provisions, flashlights?"

"Yes, we are prepared to spend tonight and three more days here if we have to. So far the weather should be clear in the morning, at least long enough for the pilots to get here. But, this is the mountains, the weather changes very quickly and with very little warning," Sheppard said. He'd moved over to the low fire. McGarrett, ever stoic, had taken up Jake's position by the entrance. The Air Marshal was now wandering aimlessly around the cave. As he passed by McGarrett the third time, the ranger caught hold of him.

"Go lay down," McGarrett suggested. "It's going to be a long night for all of us."

OOOOO

"They're alive? All of them?" J.J. breathed. Relief made her knees weak. Emily, on the other hand, wasn't so much relieved as pissed off royally.

"What do you mean you have to wait until morning? You know where they are. Your team has given you the coordinates. What more do you need?" Emily demanded of Hank. The senior ranger simply looked at her.

"Even by helicopter it will take two hours for them to reach the valley. It'll take approximately another hour to load everyone. There's only one hour of sunlight left. We can't risk more lives when your people are safe and in good hands," Hank stated. The dark haired woman was damned threatening when she was angry.

"That's unacceptable," Emily growled, leaning on Hank's desk, trying to be as imposing as possible.

"That's the best we can do," Hank said. "We'll get them off the mountain tomorrow."

_A/N: Hello! I'm so glad you're still with me. As always, real life is getting in the way. I'm sorry this chapter is so short and took so long to get out but at least we're making progress!_

_Thank you ever so much for all the wonderful reviews! They've helped to brighten some pretty dark days. PLEASE keep them coming!_

_The next update won't take so long, I hope. _

_Take care._

_Susanne_


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

"I'm starving," Johnny stated. He had splinted Hotch's arm and tended to the rest of his wounds as best he could without a hospital. Roy was still working with Spencer. Luckily the young federal agent was still pretty much unconscious. Once his older partner had finished with his exam and doing what he could for him, then they'd worry about waking him up.

"You're always starving," Roy responded from his position beside Reid. Morgan was still holding the young profiler. Roy wasn't sure the bigger man could move after sitting in that position for so long. They were going to have to find out and soon. Roy had finished administering to Reid as well as he could without having him lying down. For the last five minutes he'd simply been puttering, putting off the inevitable.

"What's for supper?" Johnny persisted, pointedly looking at their fearless leader. There was a crooked grin that he was trying to hide. Sheppard hated to cook, especially over a camp fire. Somehow, however, he always wound up with the job.

Growling under his breath, Sheppard pulled his backpack a little closer. Unzipping the main compartment, he began to rummage around inside. The first thing they were going to need was heat. The fire the agents had managed to keep going for so long was rapidly dying. What little heat it was affording was also disappearing.

Out of his pack, Sheppard pulled out a tightly rolled log made out of newspaper. It wasn't traditional but it would allow them both warmth and light for four hours. After that, he had six more of the things distributed among his team. It was a running gag that had lost some of its humour after the home made logs had saved their lives once.

Putting the log on the fire and stirring the embers around it, Sheppard turned his attention back to his bag. He hated C Rations but they were certainly easier to haul around, especially when space was limited. Pulling all of the ones he had, Sheppard tried to decide on a menu. None of them seemed particularly appetizing but Johnny was right. They needed to eat, to keep their strength up until all of them were down the mountain. Selecting four of the packages, he placed them on the edge of the fire. Maybe heating them up would help with the taste. Maybe.

"Soup's on. Just give it a few minutes," Sheppard replied. He glanced over at Jake. The air marshal was virtually vibrating on the other side of the fire. Clearly, he was not one used to just sitting around. Anyone who survived a plane crash, was rescued, and still chose to go out to find other survivors wasn't the type of person to let life pass him by. "While that's cooking, why don't you come out and show me where this guy's body is?"

Nodding his head in understanding, Jake climbed to his feet, pulled his jacket back on and headed for the entrance. He was willing to do anything to keep his mind off of the tones of stone and dirt pressing down on the roof of the cave. For the first time in his life, Jake was feeling a little claustrophobic. That was what happened when he was given too much time to think. Silently, the two men left the cave. McGarrett watched them leave but chose to remain at his post by the door. There was always a chance that a bear or other animal might come wandering in. That was the last thing they needed.

"Okay," Roy said. He'd cleaned up his supplies, checked Reid's injuries as many times as he could and had run out of things to do. "I'm going to have to get you to help me lay him down."

"No," Morgan responded immediately. His legs had long ago gone to sleep. The cold from the floor had taken up residence in his butt. Still, he knew how much moving the kid was going to hurt him. With nothing more than Tylenol in his system, this was going to be excruciating.

"I need to put him on a backboard, to stabilize his pelvis. I don't think it's broken but it's definitely cracked. I know it's going to hurt but the alternative is that you're risking his circulation being cut off to his legs, to his spine and to some of his organs. He needs to be lying flat to make sure none of these things happen," Roy stated, trying to rationalize with the man.

Roy knew in no uncertain terms that the larger man could break him in half if he wanted to. There was a dangerous edge to his dark eyes that made the paramedic a little leery of him. That last thing he wanted to do was to piss the man off. Unfortunately he'd run out of options. Getting the kid out through that entrance wasn't going to be a lot of fun either. Roy figured they'd deal with that when the problem came up.

Morgan looked down at the top of his friend's sweaty head. Reid was in trouble, big trouble, and there wasn't anything he personally could do to improve Reid's situation. The blond man beside him, however, had the knowledge and expertise. The thought of Reid being left physically impaired in some way chilled him to the bone. Reid all ready thought of himself as being lesser, physically, than the rest of the team, the last thing he needed was a real handicap.

"I don't like this," Morgan breathed as he looked over at Hotch and Rossi. He didn't want to make this decision on his own, even though he knew there really wasn't one to make.

Standing up from beside Hotch, Rossi padded over to Morgan and Reid. He'd been dreading when this time came. The sound of Reid whimpering hurt his soul. Kneeling down on the other side of the young man's thin long legs, Rossi looked at Roy. "What do we do?"

"Can you move?" Roy asked, looking at Morgan. Not bothering to speak, the agent nodded his head, yes. "You hold him up from your side, I'll hold him up from my side and you slide out."

Once he got an affirmative response from both men, Roy moved until he could comfortably grasp the thin young man's torso. Reid was still asleep or unconscious it was hard to tell which in the dim light. Roy was grateful for that. It would make this a little bit easier. Across from him, Rossi took a similar position.

"Gently, slide back on your butt until you can get your legs free," Roy ordered as he and Rossi supported Reid's body. As gently as he could manage given the senselessness in his legs, Morgan used his arms to pull his body backward, away from Reid's warm, thin frame.

Immediately upon Morgan beginning to slide out from under Reid, the younger man's eyes flew open and a high pitched noise escaped his lips as he looked around, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Morgan?" Reid gasped between clenched teeth.

"It's okay, kid. We're just trying to make you a little more comfortable," Morgan grated back. His teeth were clenched tight as well as sensation began to creep back into his extremities.

"Stop it!" Reid breathed. His eyes weren't focussing properly. He wasn't sure if it was the low light in the cave or the pain. Ultimately it didn't matter much at the moment as flames seemed to be burning through his body.

"I'm sorry," Morgan said quietly as his feet finally cleared Reid's body. With a heartfelt sigh, Morgan collapsed on the ground, his legs experiencing pins and needles while his lower back ached with an intensity that almost convinced him he'd done permanent damage.

"Spencer?" Roy said as he and Rossi oh so carefully tried to lay the young man on his back. Under his hands, the paramedic could feel the thin man's body trembling and hitching as the pain raced through his system. While they moved him, he kept an eye on the man's color. The last thing they needed was for him to stop breathing because of the discomfort.

"Reid?" Rossi countered. The young genius hadn't responded at all to the paramedic's inquiry. He wasn't sure if it was because Reid's senses were being overwhelmed or because he hadn't recognized Roy's voice, much less the use of his first name. To his knowledge, only Reid's mother usually called him by his first name with any regularity. "We're moving you into a more comfortable position."

"You're doing it wrong," Reid grunted through clenched teeth. His eyes had slammed shut as yet another wave of pain crashed over him. What the hell were they doing to him? Where was Morgan? The questions were lost in the cacophony of sensations racing around in Reid's body. As they laid him down on the ground, the pain intensified. Reid's mind did the only thing it could to protect him, it shut down.

"He'll be okay," Roy tried to reassure the older man as they quickly placed torso length back board Roy had had attached to his backpack under Reid's pelvis, trunk and legs. The muscle twitches continued and small, pitiful noises escaped from the kid's tightly drawn lips. Roy was grateful that he had lost consciousness. What they were about to do would have been hell for the patient otherwise. "I'm going to need help. He's not going to like being lashed down to the board. It's going to hurt like hell at first but the pain should pass in a few minutes."

"I hope you're right," Rossi said as he tried to not think about who was lying on the ground in front of him. At the moment he needed all of his professional detachment to keep from pushing the man away and rolling Reid onto his side. The sounds squeaking through Reid's lips were driving him nuts. He tried to ignore the slight trembling of his hands as he put them where Roy instructed. Then the paramedic began fastening Reid's battered body to the board.

OOOOO

"Come on, Emily. We should go back to the motel room and try to get some sleep," J.J. suggested. The two women were sitting along a wall in the ranger station trying to not feel completely useless. The sun was still up but barely. There wasn't anything that was going to happen before dawn. Try as she might, the blond hair agent couldn't quite stifle the yawn that seized her.

Emily's immediate response was to say 'no'. She hated the idea of leaving. What if something happened over night? The motel was a twenty minute drive from the station. By the time they got back here something important might have happened. Then she glanced at her companion. J.J.'s usually bright eyes were dark from the circles hanging under them. The yawn was the last straw though.

Hanging her head, Emily nodded 'yes'. She doubted very much that she was going to be able to sleep at all but if it made J.J. more comfortable for the night then she'd go to the motel. Besides, Emily had to admit that she could really do with a shower. "The ranger has our cell phone numbers. Let's go," Emily said, each word taking a huge amount of effort to say. It was going to be a long night.

_A/N: Thank you ever so much for all the wonderful reviews! I love reading them! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Not a lot happened but I am getting them closer to getting out of the cave. I hope! _

_Take care._

_Susanne_


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

"Are you positive I can't give him anything?" Roy asked. Special Agent Reid was in unimaginable pain. Tying Spencer to the back board was dreadful for all of them. The sounds of agony had been heart-rending to hear. The only thing the seasoned paramedic had been grateful for was that the young man had remained unconscious during the entire process.

"Yes. S.A. Reid has had addiction problems in the past. We aren't going to add to his list of issues here," Derek growled. He'd managed to gain his feet just a few moments ago. His legs and back were aching like a son of a bitch. As gently as he could, he began stretching out the cramped muscles. If they were going to get Spencer out of this damned cave, they were going to need everyone on deck.

"Oh." It was the only thing Roy could think to say. Letting the conversation drop, he concentrated on securing the last few straps. The board wasn't quite long enough but it was working fairly well for what they needed. Wrapping the blanket further around the thin young man's naked lower half, Roy pulled the strap across his pelvic region. The scream Spencer emitted tore his heart. Quickly, he undid the strap. This wasn't going to work.

"What are you doing?" Hotch demanded. His own injuries completely forgotten, he moved to put his body between the paramedic and Spencer. The Unit Chief was drawn up short by Johnny. The younger paramedic knew how awful it was for the three men to hear their colleague suffer but he also knew that it was entirely necessary.

"This isn't working," Roy said, resting back on his heels. With a slightly trembling hand, he wiped a layer of sweat off his face.

"What do you need?" Sheppard asked from the entrance. He and McGarrett were working on making the entrance a little wider. Now that Reid was on the backboard they needed more room to get him out.

Roy thought for a moment. They needed to stabilize the young man's pelvis. Obviously it was in worse shape than his exam had shown. Thinking quickly, he grabbed his back pack and pulled the one spare shirt he'd brought with him. Folding it in half, he rolled it up and carefully slipped it in between Spencer's outer right buttock and the back board. "I need a towel, shirt or something else I can roll up. We need to keep his pelvis from moving. That's what's causing him the pain."

McGarrett had a sweater in his hand and quickly tossed it over to Roy. "Use this," Steve said. At this rate he wasn't going to feel cold anytime soon. The trip down the mountain would hopefully all be done in the helicopter so that wasn't going to be a concern either.

"Thanks," Roy said as he caught it and quickly put it under Reid's other side. The boy's discomfort seemed to decrease immediately. Willing to push his luck just a little, Roy fastened the strap once more and very carefully began to tighten it. He made it most of the way before Reid reacted, a strangled scream issuing from his clenched teeth.

"Leave him alone!" Morgan ordered, stepping forward. Hearing his friend in such pain was more than he could take. For a fleeting moment Derek wished desperately that all of this were a bad dream and he was going to wake up in bed with his dog.

"I'm almost done," Roy responded as he pulled the strap just a little tighter. As agonizing as the pain Reid was currently feeling was, it would be even worse if he wasn't properly secured to the board when they moved him.

"You're done now," Derek growled as he knelt down, caught hold of Roy's hands and prepared to pull them away from Reid. The boy's body was trembling with fatigue and pain despite him being unconscious. Morgan just hoped he'd stay that way and spare himself some of the pain his body was feeling.

"Morgan, let him do his job," Dave said, carefully moving his fellow team member out of the way. He hated the sounds Reid was making too. He hated the possibility of the youngest member of their team dying in this God forsaken cave even worse. The sooner they could get the hell out of there, the happier he'd be.

Suppressing the urge to beat the older man senseless for getting in his way, Morgan allowed Dave to move him back toward the cave wall. Hotch was forced to join him. Dave made sure that his boss was comfortable before turning his back on him to watch over what Roy was doing to Reid. Apparently, though, the paramedic was happy with where Reid's care was currently at because he sat back, wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand and heaved a huge sigh.

"Are you finished?" Morgan demanded. He had one hand on Hotch's nearest arm, keeping him upright, while watching every move the paramedic made. In his intense scrutiny, he ignored Johnny and the others entirely.

"For now," Roy responded. Johnny helped him to cover Reid up, the young man still very much unconscious. Once he was satisfied that the agent was as comfortable as he could make him, Roy quickly checked Reid's vital signs while Johnny shone a light in his glazed eyes to check his papillary response.

"How is he?" Hotch asked as he inched forward. The longer he stood there, the more his body was trying to remind him that he too had had the week from hell but his concern for his youngest team member overrode all concern for his own welfare. The only other person in the world that had this affect on him was his son, Jack. Well, the rest of his team too but they were a very close third.

"He's all right," Johnny stated. The IV was helping to rehydrate Spencer and the antibiotics he was administering were going to fight any infection that was building up in his injured body. Still, they needed to get him off the mountain. Glancing over at the tottering Hotch, Johnny amended that thought they needed to get them both off this damned mountain. There was no way he was going to tell the others that though they were all ready tense enough.

"Jake? Would you be able to help us dig? We need to make this entrance wider to fit Reid and the backboard through it," Sheppard asked quietly. He, McGarrett and Jake had stood back, watching the drama unfold around the young agent. He didn't really need help but he could see the man virtually vibrating with unspent energy. He figured it was better to use that energy toward the greater good.

"Definitely," Jake responded, relief flowing through him. Listening to Reid's pain, he'd felt the need to curl up in the furthest corner of the cave in the fetal position and cover his ears. The chance of having something else to concentrate on was greatly appreciated.

"Let's get to it. We have four hours until the helicopters should be able to take off. I want to be outside waiting for them when they get here," Sheppard said, looking at Steve for confirmation. There wasn't a lot of room in the entrance but between the three of them, they should be able to reach the end in time.

"After you," Steve said with a small smile on his lips. With a flourish, he indicated for his boss to climb back into the entrance. While Steve was more muscularly built, he had more trouble with the twisting and turning required to dig and remove the resulting dirt. As a result, Sheppard had volunteered/been drafted to do the digging. Now that Jake was helping, McGarrett hoped the work would progress much faster.

Crouching at the new and improved entrance waiting for the next bucket of soil/debris to be handed out to him, Steve looked over to Johnny and Roy. The paramedics were working hard to keep the injured as comfortable as they could given the restrictions they were under. At least the kid had quietened down now that Roy had him secured properly to the backboard. He didn't know the full extent of either man's injuries but Steve had the feeling that both of them were going to have a long road to recovery. He just hoped they got them on the first state of their healing process, getting out of the cave. Then he'd start worrying about getting them down the mountain. If it came down to it, Steve was prepared to strap the kid and the board onto his back and start hiking.

Pulling his pack closer to him, Steve broke out a power bar. He was hungrier than he wanted to admit. Even though the agent had made a meal, he hadn't eaten much of it, reserving it for the injured and the agents. They were going to need all the strength they could muster. Staying in the cave had kept them safe from the elements but hadn't done much to help maintain their stamina. The thinner air this high up would also combine to zap their energy faster than they could imagine. Swallowing the remaining bite, Steve crumpled the wrapper up in his hand and shoved it into his pocket.

Then he was back at it as Jake scuttled toward him with the pail overflowing with dirt. Accepting the pail, Steve climbed back up to his feet, paced over to the corner they'd been using for a latrine and poured the contents on top of it. If there was any chance of an animal using this cave again, they needed to cover the scent of humans as much as they could. Returning to the entrance, he found Jake waiting for him, another bucket full. The work seemed to be going even better than he hoped. Quickly, the three of them developed a steady rhythm, further increasing their productivity.

"Reid?" Hotch whispered. As soon as the paramedics had moved away from Spencer, Hotch had tottered his way to his subordinate's side and basically crumpled to the ground. In his collapse, Hotch managed to protect his splinted arm but that was about it. Bracing his battered body up as well as he could, Aaron reached over and brushed some sweat soaked unruly curls out of Reid's pale, sweaty face.

There was no response from the thin young man. Despair tried to envelope Hotch. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Reid. The young man was like his son, it would be like losing Jack. Tears threatened to fill his brown eyes as he looked down at Reid. Even in the dim light from the fire, he could see the deep lines of pain etched through his face. Angrily, Hotch wiped at the tears. The last thing any of them needed was for him to fall apart.

A low moan issued from Reid. Then his head turned slightly toward Hotch. Hope rose as Hotch watched Reid fight toward consciousness. There was nothing Hotch wouldn't give to see Reid's too curious eyes burning with that spark that was there when he had a puzzle to solve. It seemed like eons since he'd last seen that. Watching closely, Hotch saw Reid's eyes shifting under his eye lids. A moment later he blinked, trying to focus his eyes on his surroundings. Just as Hotch was going to get the paramedics' attention, to let them know that Reid was awake finally, Reid's breath caught in his throat and his eyes screwed shut tightly.

"Reid?" Hotch asked, reaching out to his friend's closest shoulder to place a reassuring hand there. Just before he made contact, Reid's body went stiff as the board he was strapped to, his breath wheezed out from between clenched teeth as he tried to ride out the tsunami of pain that had just begun to register in his brain.

In an instant both Johnny and Roy were at Reid's side. Johnny had to gently guide Hotch out of the way so he could reach the young man. His life signs were no longer stable. He was fully conscious, the pain overwhelming his senses. Feeling completely helpless to do anything for the agent, Johnny caught Roy's eye and barely shook his head no. This wasn't working.

"I'm giving him something for the pain," Roy stated, glancing over at Hotch and then the other two agents. The automatic negative response was prevented by Reid as his body virtually lifted off the board, his muscles in full spasm to the point that Hotch thought Reid might break his back.

"Okay," Hotch responded, bile rising in his throat. "Do what you have to do."

_Hello! How're your summers going? I've just come back off vacation, which is my excuse this time for my late update. Sorry! I have gotten some wonderful news about my Dad so things are looking up._

_Thank you so much for all your reviews! It floors me that so many people like this story and take the time to let me know what they think. I'm still getting over the shock that I'm not alone in my need to beat the crap out of my favourite fictional characters! Thanks to fanfiction and you wonderful readers, I don't feel like a freak anymore! So please, keep up the reviews if you have time and all the alerts too for those of you who don't have the time. I appreciate those as well. I can't believe how many people are waiting for me to get off my butt and write this thing. Thanks for sticking with me. I'll be faster next time (I hope)._

_Anyway, I can tell it's late at night, otherwise I wouldn't be rambling quite so much. _

_Please excuse the fact that my stories are always a beta free zone. I figure you wait long enough for the updates as it is, getting the chapters beta'd would just slow things down further. The choice is yours!_

_I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks again for sticking with me!_

_Susanne_


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

"No!" Morgan growled, stepping forward. He knew in his soul how much Reid would hate them for giving him narcotics, of any kind, for any reason. Even with the pain Spencer was clearly feeling, Derek knew what the paramedics were about to do would make it that much harder for him in the days to come.

"Morgan," Hotch warned, placing his body between the medics and his agent. From the look on Morgan's face, he was ready to protect his younger colleague with violence if necessary. Not wanting more wounded to deal with Hotch did the only thing that he could think of. He knew Morgan wouldn't hurt him.

"You know he doesn't want this," Morgan pressed, trying, carefully, to get around his boss. Roy was drawing up the drugs into a syringe. There was still a chance he could stop him from actually injecting it.

"I know," Hotch responded, moving to stay in Morgan's way. The bile was still there at the back of his throat, no matter how many times he swallowed.

"Reid!" Morgan called, trying to bring his friend around verbally since he wasn't going to reach him physically. No matter how badly he wanted to get to Spencer, there was no way in hell he'd risk injuring Hotch further to do it.

"Derek," Dave said, coming up behind the younger agent. He understood the anguish Derek was feeling, it was racing through his own body and mind, but watching Reid continue to spasm on the backboard, he knew it was the only way. Cautiously but firmly, he placed a hand on Derek's right shoulder, trying to draw him back away from the paramedics. "Let them work."

Rounding on Dave Morgan's hands clenched into fists as he breathed heavily in an attempt to restrain the urge to pound the older man into the ground. How could they let this happen?

"Derek," Dave persisted. "He will be in agony all the way down the mountain. If he's in this much pain now, can you imagine how bad it will be in the back of a helicopter?"

The image of the helicopter stopped Derek in his tracks. Visibly deflating, he dropped his head and let his hands relax. They were right. Reid was on the ground here, immobile. In a helicopter with the vibration of the engine and the rotors thrumming through the metal body, it would feel like Spencer's body was trying to come apart. "He'll never forgive us."

"Yes, he will," Dave said, directing Morgan away from Reid. Roy had the morphine drawn and was just slipping the needle into the injection site on the IV tubing. With a final look at Hotch for confirmation, Roy paused.

Swallowing thickly, Hotch had turned to see how Reid was doing. It took a tremendous amount of energy for him to nod his head, yes. The Unit Chief pushed away the sense of betrayal the motion created in his mind. It was the only way to get Reid down the mountain.

"Okay," Roy said under his breath. He knew from the tension in the air how much this meant. Looking down at the syringe in his hands, Roy slowly began pressing on the plunger, injecting the morphine into the young man's veins. It took nearly the entire contents before he noticed any real difference in Reid's level of discomfort.

"God!" Morgan swore. Running his hands over his scalp, he turned away from the paramedics and his friend and moved over to the fire. Frustrated beyond all reason, he slumped to the ground and stared disconsolately at the low flickering flames.

Still swallowing bile, Hotch settled down beside Reid and placed a hand on his shoulder. Under his fingers, he felt the younger man's muscles slowly begin to relax as the drug worked its magic. Somehow that didn't really make him feel much better. Taking a deep breath, Hotch lowered his head, closed his eyes and tried not to think for a few minutes.

"Hotch?" In the midst of Hotch's self recriminations, the quiet voice nearly got lost. Even still, it took a moment or two before Reid's question registered. Hotch's head snapped up, his dark brown eyes searching and findings Reid's fuzzy, barely focusing ones.

"Spence?" Hotch said, inching forward. Unconsciously, his hand tightened a little harder around Reid's thin shoulder.

"What...?" Reid swallowed thickly. It took nearly every ounce of strength he possessed to get the single word out. He was dimly aware of the IV in his arm and the stiff board under his back but mostly all he knew was that Hotch was there, right beside him.

"I'm sorry," Hotch said, his faces inches away from Reid's pale, sweaty one. "We had to give you morphine."

Reid's large eyes blinked once, twice, a third time as the import of those words slowly registered. For the first thirty seconds Reid railed against the circumstances that had put him in this position in the first place. Then more rational thought asserted itself. Gazing into his boss's dark, tortured eyes, Reid managed a ghost of a smile. "It's okay."

It felt as if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. Hissing out a breath, Hotch's head dropped for a moment again as relief flowed through him. Ignoring the tears that were stinging the corners of his eyes, Hotch looked up into Reid's face again. He was only mildly surprised to see that his eyes were closed. The morphine was working well, he'd fallen into a deep, healing sleep.

"I gave him as low a dosage as I could," Roy said as he put his supplies away. "Addicts develop a tolerance for the drug so it takes more for it to work for them. I figured I'd start out at a low dose and increase it if he needs it."

"Thank you," Hotch said. Content that Reid was as comfortable as he was going to be, Hotch levered his battered body off the ground and headed for the fire. Suddenly the cave felt cold as the adrenaline in his system disappeared.

"How are you?" Dave asked. He'd watched Hotch and moved over to help his boss over to his blankets. Now that the urgency was gone, Hotch was moving like an old person.

"Ready to get out of here," was Hotch's laconic reply. With an unconscious sigh, he sank down onto the blankets and promptly fell asleep.

"You and me both," Dave agreed. The paramedics were still fussing over an oblivious Reid. Jake and the other two were happily digging out the entrance. Morgan was still glaring at the low burning flames. Suddenly exhausted, Dave moved over a short distance from Hotch and settled on the ground where his own blanket was spread. There were still hours left until daylight. He might as well get some sleep while he could.

OOOOO

It took the rest of the night for the three men to widen the entrance enough to get Reid and the backboard out at the same time.

Pushing the last load of snow out the top of the hole, McGarrett paused for a moment, the cool winter wind brushing against the sweat in his hair. If he wasn't careful, it would freeze it just as quickly. Scanning the valley, he was relieved to see the sky starting to lighten as dawn approached.

With one last glance, McGarrett returned to the dark confines of the cave. Sheppard needed to contact base to finalize the details of their extraction. Clearing the tunnel, Steve first noticed the quiet. The kid was still sleeping thanks to the dosage of morphine. Even from this distance, he could tell that the thin young man was resting more comfortably. Everyone was in one degree of rest or another. Padding over as quietly as a cat, McGarrett knelt down by the spot where Sheppard had virtually collapsed an hour before.

"It's dawn," Steve said quietly while placing a hand on his boss's shoulder. Instantly Sheppard was awake and sitting up. The only indication that he'd had a single hour of sleep was a few quick blinks of his blue eyes to get them adjusted to the dim light of the cave.

"Thanks," Sheppard responded as he levered his weary body off the too hard ground. He scooped up the satellite phone on his way toward the cave entrance.

Moving over to the two paramedics, Steve repeated the process. When his three team mates were awake, he went over to Jake and settled down near him. Steve left the Air Marshall sleeping and found a comfortable position with his back against the wall. Within seconds, he was napping lightly.

"The morphine seems to have helped," Johnny said, scrubbing his stubbly face with his hands to remove any remnants of sleep.

"Yeah," Roy responded as he checked the young man's vitals. He'd hated to do it but there was no other alternative. Not until they got him to the hospital and under a doctor's care. Even then, he'd given the kid a fairly mild dosage. Roy was very glad to see that it had been enough to take the edge off the young man's agony.

"That's a good thing. We've got to get him ready. The helicopter trip isn't going to do him much good," Johnny stated. He was all ready pulling out the metallic thermal blanket they were going to have to wrap around him to get him to the helicopter. He was all ready fighting an infection and weak, he didn't need to catch a chill as well.

"Yeah," was all Roy could think to say. He was going to have to make sure the morphine was close at hand. He knew all ready Reid was going to need at least one more dose before they got him to the hospital.

OOOOO

"Agent Hotchner?" It took a few moments for Hotch to reach full consciousness. It felt like he'd barely closed his eyes but instinctively he knew it had been at least a few hours. Blinking in the darkness, he realized Johnny was leaning over him, gently shaking his left shoulder. "We need to get ready to exit the cave."

Nodding his head, Hotch pulled the blankets off him that Dave had covered him with and carefully gained his feet with a little help from Johnny. Glancing over where Reid was, he saw Roy making his final preparations for the move. One part of him didn't really believe they were ever going to get out of this damned cave. The other part was barely containing its excitement. It seemed like it had been an eternity since he'd seen the sky.

As soon as he was standing, Hotch felt Dave on one side of him and Morgan on the other. It both touched him and pissed him off. He hated that both men thought him incapable of getting to the entrance on his own. Ignoring them, he made his way toward Jake and Sheppard, the two men were waiting by the entrance. Half way there, his shuffling steps faltered. His body had had enough.

"Here," Morgan said as he caught hold of Hotch's arm and helped support his staggering weight. He knew how much this was driving his boss nuts but they had to get out, now.

"Thanks," Hotch said, his voice quiet. So long as they got the hell out of here, he would accept being carried if that's what it took. On his other side, Dave carefully managed to help as well without aggravating his injuries.

"We're waiting for Steve to give us the signal that the chopper is here. The wind's down and the sun is shining but it's still pretty damned cold out there. We won't go out until we have to," Sheppard explained when they finally reached them. Johnny had gone over to help Roy. It was probably going to take all four rangers to get the kid on the backboard out of the entrance. Even then they might need help.

As if on cue, Sheppard saw the top of McGarrett's head come down the entrance. "Okay, this is it. We'll take Agent Reid first, in case we need help. I'll come back and get you when we have him aboard," Sheppard said, looking at each of the agents to see if they understood.

"All right," Dave replied. Carefully, he and Morgan helped Hotch to the ground, his back against the cave wall so he wasn't completely horizontal.

In minutes, the rangers had picked Reid up, his legs supported by McGarrett and Sheppard, with Roy and Johnny on the front of the board. No longer sleeping peacefully, Reid was awake, his face white in the dim light and his teeth clenched tightly against the pain. As they moved by the agents and Jake, Hotch saw that Reid had a death grip on the board, his knuckles as white as his face. Apparently the morphine was beginning to wear off.

"Are you okay?" Roy asked as they prepared to force him through the newly widened entrance. He too had seen how pale Reid had become and felt how tight his muscles were. The paramedic began berating himself for not giving him more morphine sooner.

"Fine," Reid said between clenched teeth. The jostling and moving was causing the bones of his pelvis to grate together. The pain was indescribable and every fibre of his being was begging for more painkillers. Reid, however, wasn't going to let that happen, not again. The need for drugs, any drugs was always present in the back of Reid's mind. It had been since Henkel. Usually, though, he managed to keep his mind preoccupied with other things, cases, reading thirty books on his days off, whatever it took. Now, though, the need was up front and center, not willing to be ignored.

"I'll give you more on the helicopter," Roy promised as they began dragging him through the tunnel.

"No," once was enough. Reid grimaced as a particularly bad jostle sent new spikes of pain through him. "No more."

"Okay," Roy responded as they inched him forward another two feet.

"Promise?" Reid asked, hating himself for sounding so young.

Roy paused for a moment. Looking the young agent in the eye, he knew he couldn't take this oath lightly. "I promise." He just hoped he could keep that promise.

_A/N: Hello! Thank you so very much for all the reviews! I'm still amazed at how many people are enjoying this story. Thanks for sticking with me and being patient. I'm updating as fast as I can, honest!_

_I'll thank you all in advance for your continued support and patience. I'll update ASAP, I promise!_

_Susanne_


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Every inch was pure torture. Closing his eyes, trying to keep from projectile vomiting all over the place, Reid concentrated on breathing in around the pain and breathing out. Around him he could hear his rescuers talking amongst themselves, trying to negotiate the tunnel with a minimum of jostling. Reid was thankful for the backboard. He knew that this entire process would have been impossible without it. Gritting his teeth a little harder, breathing a little faster, Reid began pouring through all the statistics he knew. It was enough to distract him until the darkness behind his eye lids was replaced with something else.

The light beyond the cave entrance was blinding after the dark confines. Reid closed his eyes against the onslaught. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes in reaction to the sharp twinges in his corneas. The pain of being moved was beginning to fade into the background. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. Concentrating on breathing instead of holding his breath as was his first reaction, Reid kept his eyes closed. It just made things easier.

The pain came in flashes, kind of like the light. Just as Reid thought he was going to be overwhelmed, two more sets of hands caught hold of his backboard and the ride was smoother. Breathing a sigh of relief, Reid dared to open his eyes again. The world was white and blinding, just as he had expected. It smelled substantially better than the cave though.

"How many more injured?" an unfamiliar voice beyond the light asked. Reid was only marginally concerned. All he really wanted was to get off this damned mountain, go home and sleep in his own bed. Beyond that, nothing else really mattered. Then he was jostled again and darkness descended.

"Is he okay?" Sheppard asked. As careful as they'd tried to be he knew the kid had been shook up pretty good. It scared him when the kid had lost consciousness.

"Yeah, probably the best thing for him," Roy admitted. It saved him from making the decision of whether to administer more drugs. It also saved Reid from a considerable amount of pain. Over all it was a win/win type of situation. Just in case, though, he checked Reid's pupils. He was going to have to wait until they actually had him inside the helicopter before he could do a proper examination. He was relieved, however, to find the brown eyes equal and reactive.

"There's one more injured still inside the cave. I don't want to expose him to the cold any longer than I have to," Roy said to answer the man's question.

The snow was deep, their progress slow even with the two men that had jumped out of the helicopter. Reid seemed to weight three hundred pounds as the men carried him and his backboard through the thigh deep snow toward the still running helicopter. The pilot was afraid to turn it off because in the cold weather it might not start again. Besides, he wanted to be ready to lift as soon as they had everyone aboard.

Off in the distance, Sheppard saw the second helicopter waiting, hovering down the mountain from them. There were too many of them to fit in a single machine. There was no way at this point that they were going to send anyone down the mountain. Everyone was getting a ride. They weren't taking any chances.

OOOOO

"You're turn," Roy said, looking down at Hotch. The older man had fallen into a light sleep while he waited for them to be ready to move him. Feeling the hand on his shoulder and hearing the paramedic's voice, Hotch barely managed to keep from jumping.

"Is Reid on board?" Hotch asked as he struggled to get to his feet. The combination of fatigue, cold and hard ground had caused his hip to seize up. Between that and his now aching arm, the Unit Chief wasn't entirely sure he was going to be able to crawl out of the cave. The physical ability and strength might currently be beyond him.

"Yes. The helicopter is waiting for you before it lifts off. Come on," Roy said. With a gentle hand, he pulled Hotch to his feet and helped him toward the entrance. Lying on the ground beside it was a strange looking toboggan. Eyeing it sceptically, Hotch allowed the paramedic to manoeuvre him towards it.

"Shouldn't you have used this for Reid?" Hotch asked as he was carefully positioned inside the thing. It felt a little too close to a coffin without the lid. Before he had a chance to question the sanity of the contraption, Johnny began securing him to it.

"The backboard wouldn't fit inside and it was more important to keep him on it," Roy responded. He'd questioned doing it too but had determined that it was better this way. At least he hoped so.

"I'm not sure I like this," Hotch stated as the last strap was secured. He hated not being able to move. If anything went wrong during the procedure, he'd be at the mercy of the rescuers. He really hated giving that much control over his life to people he didn't really know.

"Just hold on and enjoy the ride," Johnny said, a crooked grin on his face. Then the sled was being pulled toward the dark entrance. For a brief moment, Hotch felt a near overwhelming sense of claustrophobia rise up. Closing his eyes against it, he concentrated on breathing. Hopefully it would be enough to distract him. Then he felt the weight of the mountain over his head as the sled slid into the tunnel.

Dave and Morgan stood in the cave. They were the last ones left. Looking around, both men decided silently that they weren't going to miss it much. Walking over to the low burning fire, Dave kicked dirt over it. As darkness descended, Morgan turned on a flashlight to guide their way. Their packs secured on their backs, the two agents bid the cave goodbye as they followed the rescuers and their boss outside.

OOOOO

The helicopter was vibrating. Not much, but just enough that Reid could feel it dimly in his bones. Not a pleasant sensation in his pelvis. Tears were dribbling out the sides of his eyes as he kept them clenched against the pain. Over the roar of the engine, he could hear his rescuers talking but he couldn't quite make out the words. It didn't really matter. He was on his way down the mountain, as soon as they got Hotch into the helicopter. Then they could leave but not until then. Opening his eyes to voice this opinion, Reid was greatly relieved to see his boss slid into the body of the helicopter beside him.

Something more profound than relief flowed through Reid's beaten body, they were going home. Well, to a hospital anyway, then eventually home. Closing his eyes, Reid allowed his body to give in. The ride would be better if he didn't feel it.

Beside the tall, thin profiler, Hotch glanced over the edge of the sled. They'd pulled him easily through the entrance and the snow. Now he was inside the helicopter, Reid beside him. Raising his head, he glanced out the helicopter door as the crew was pulling it shut. Beyond it, he saw Dave and Morgan emerge from the cave. Momentary regret that his agents couldn't come with them and then Hotch too gave into the demands of his body and lost consciousness.

OOOOO

The trip down the mountain went amazingly smooth. Roy knew this was partly due to the fact that both their patients had lost consciousness, but it also had to do with the abilities of the pilot. While they travelled over the fields of snow that were soon replaced by trees, Roy and Johnny kept checking their charges' vitals. Through headsets handed to them by the helicopter crew, they were able to relay their patients' status and their ETA.

Looking up from checking Reid's blood pressure, Roy exchanged a brief glance with his partner. The sooner they got them to the hospital the better. The helicopter was their fastest mode of transportation but today it seemed to be little more than a horse drawn carriage. Grinding his teeth, Roy turned his attention back to the young man at his feet. They would be under a doctor's care soon enough.

OOOOO

The helicopter landed on the room of the nearest hospital. As soon as the door slid open, doctors, nurses and orderlies began pulling the injured out and placing them on gurneys. Amid shouted live signs from Johnny and Roy, the two agents were rolled towards the roof top entrance to the hospital. Once inside the elevator, the steady thumping of the helicopter's blades disappeared as the large group hurtled towards the ground level and their ER.

At the ground floor the doors opened and the gurneys and their attendants poured out. As each was pushed into a waiting examination room, the medical personel were oblivious to the two women standing by the wall. Emily and J.J. stood as if made out of stone. Hotch and Reid were little more than pale shadows of themselves under all the tubes, wires and masks. Shocked at the state of their friends and fellow agents, they stood mute. Unconsciously, they moved a step or two towards the examination rooms.

"Are you friends?' Roy asked as he exited the room Reid had been wheeled into. He'd delivered his precious cargo alive. Now he was no longer needed. As if to prove the point, the elevator doors opened up and Dave, Morgan, McGarrett and Sheppard emerged.

"They're going to be okay," Johnny reassured the agents as he too stepped out of the exam room. He didn't need ot ask. He knew all ready that this team of agents were more like family than friends. He'd seen it in the uninjured agents' concern for Hotch and Reid. Looking at the two beautiful women, one blond, the other dark, Johnny knew that they were a part of it too. The deep expressions of concern on both their faces made them even more attractive to him.

"Thank God," Emily breathed as she sank against the wall. All she wanted to do was to rush into first one room and then the other to make sure of this for herself. Squashing the urge, she instead turned her attention to Morgan and Dave. Both men looked exhausted and didn't really smell all that good.

"How long until we can talk to the doctors?" Dave asked. He wanted to hear the reassurances from the horse's mouth. At this point he wasn't willing to take anything for granted.

"Well, it'll probably take an hour or so until they finish the exams and determine a course of treatment. Until then, I'll show you to the doctor's showers. It looks like you could use it," Roy said. Now that they were in the disinfected confines of the hospital, he knew that all of them had a certain aroma. While he and his fellow rangers were going to have to wait until they got home, he knew the agents weren't going to go anywhere.

"We'll stay here," J.J. offered. She wasn't used to seeing either man look anything less than well dressed and groomed. It was refreshing and a little disconcerting at the same time. Besides, they really did smell. "I'll let you know if the doctors come out before you get back."

With a shrug, Morgan allowed the paramedics to lead him away. He was suddenly too tired to think. A moment of indecision and Dave followed. He hated to leave. As irrational as it was, he had the feeling that something terrible was going to happen if he did. Glancing over his shoulder at Emily and J.J. he reluctantly walked through the hallway towards the doctor's showers.

A/N: _Thanks so very much for being patient. I know this update has been a long time coming. My muse has been somewhat elusive of late but at least I managed to get this much before it disappeared again. I hope you enjoyed it!_

_Susanne_


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

"Where are they?" The voice was loud, demanding and could be heard all the way down the hall. Waiting for the doctors to finish with Hotch and Reid, Emily and J.J. had settled into the small waiting room at the far end of the hall. While it felt like an eternity, in reality Emily knew that it had only been two hours since the two men were rushed beyond the doors leading to the E.R.

Glancing up at the commotion, Emily was only marginally surprised to see one Penelope Garcia storming down the hallway toward her. The short, squat blond woman looked ready to take everyone on. Erupting out of her plastic waiting room chair, Emily intercepted her colleague before Garcia could push her way into the E.R.

"Garcia, Garcia, calm down. Hotch and Reid are with the doctors right now. We're still waiting to talk to them," Emily said, holding her hands up to stop the computer analyst.

"It's been two hours. How much more time could they possibly need?" Penelope demanded. Seeing J.J. hovering at the waiting room door and Emily had reduced Penelope's stress level but the fact that they hadn't heard anything didn't help.

Further discussion was pre-empted by the return of Morgan and Rossi. The two agents looked much cleaner but not necessarily more awake. Trailing behind the two men were the four rangers. Now that they'd gotten the agents off the mountain, they wanted to make sure they were all right before they headed back to work.

"Morgan?" Penelope said, her voice quivering with emotion. Unable to contain herself, she threw her body at the taller man and tried to contain the wracking sobs that were threatening. The team was her family. Now that they were safe she was finding it very hard to keep her professional facade in place. The arrival of Morgan, her best friend, had been the last straw. Wrapping the blond woman in a tight embrace, Derek rested his chin on the top of her head while Garcia struggled to get control of herself again.

"Any word?" Morgan asked, looking at J.J. and Emily over top of Garcia's head. Unconsciously, he was gently rubbing Penelope's back while he felt her quiet sobs slowly abate.

Shaking her head 'no', J.J. turned and headed back into the waiting room. This was the part she hated, having to wait, to sit still doing nothing, when all she wanted to do was to burst into the ER and demand answers. What could possibly be taking so long?

"We'll go see what's going on," Roy suggested, nodding at Johnny. The silence was disturbing. It meant that either the doctors and nurses were too busy dealing with injuries to take the time to inform the agents' of their colleagues' conditions or that things were so serious that they wanted to have more information before they passed it along. Both scenarios had the paramedics' worried. With a glance at Sheppard and McGarrett, the two men pushed their way through the double doors.

"Thank you," Rossi said to Sheppard as the group edged toward the waiting room. The hallway was too busy for them to continue standing in it. Nurses, orderlies and visitors kept having to side step around them. "We couldn't have lasted another night in there."

"No problem," Sheppard responded, ducking his head. "It's part of our job."

"You went against your boss. That took a lot of guts," Emily said, thankful for something else to talk about. Still, every time someone came out of the ER doors her head would snap around to look.

"Not really, Stanley has to follow the rules but he gives us a lot of lee way when we need it. I'm just glad we found them as quickly as we did. Your colleagues were in rough shape," McGarrett responded sitting in the chair closest to the door. It was instinctual. He always had to know who was coming into the room first so he could determine in a second if they were a threat or not.

Nothing seemed like an appropriate response to that so Emily turned her attention back to Garcia. The woman had recovered herself enough to disengage from Morgan. Now the two of them were sitting in adjacent chairs, Garcia sniffling quietly. She'd managed to keep it together all the way here from Quantico. It irritated her to lose control in front of the others, especially when they were all so damned calm.

The doors to the ER swung open. Johnny and Roy came out of them followed by a man dressed in green scrubs. All three men were looking sombre. Fear spiked through Emily's body as she unconsciously rose to her feet. The others followed suit even though they weren't entirely sure why. Then the three men entered the waiting room.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Hill," the man in the scrubs stated, English accent evident. "I'm the surgeon that will be taking Dr. Reid into the OR in a few minutes. Roy and John told me that you hadn't been briefed at all on your colleagues' conditions."

"No, we haven't. Thank you Dr. Hill. Why is Reid going into surgery?" Morgan asked. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Not again.

"Dr. Reid has sustained damage to his pelvis. During the surgery I will stabilize it so that he will be in considerably less discomfort. I understand that Dr. Reid does not want any pain killers. That is unadvisable at the moment. He's in a weakened condition and has sustained numerous injuries that are extremely painful. I'd like very much to give him something for pain before he wakes up," the doctor stated. He was just inside the room, his back to the closed door. His brown hair was cut short but it was his sparkling blue eyes that caught Emily's attention despite her concern for her friends.

"As much as we'd like to give you permission, we have to acquiesce to Spencer's wishes," Rossi said. "He has to deal with the consequences, we do not."

"Has Dr. Reid had a drug problem?" Dr. Hill inquired. It was the only explanation for the man's adamant denial of something that would help significantly during his long recovery.

The four BAU members glanced at each other. They hated to drag Reid's dirty laundry out for everyone to see but the doctor needed to understand. Stepping forward, Rossi cleared his throat to give himself a chance to gather his thoughts before he responded.

"Dr. Reid was kidnapped and injected with intravenous drugs that included dilaudid while being terrorized and tortured by an unsub. It has taken him some time to overcome his addiction. The last thing he needs while dealing with the physical recovery that is ahead of him is to be dealing with that as well," Rossi said. "What other injuries does he have beyond the damage to his pelvis?"

"Ahh," Dr. Hill hedged. Reaching up with his right hand he rubbed the back of his neck while he too considered his words. He understood how close this team was, Roy and Johnny had filled him in in the ER. But, it still didn't supersede the two men's right to privacy, especially given the damage done to Dr. Reid's genitalia. Most of the swelling had gone down thanks to the application of the snow but there was still internal swelling that would have to be dealt with. He wasn't too sure how much the young doctor would want his teammates to know. "He has sustained numerous scrapes and bruises. None of his injuries are life threatening. He's lucky though that he was given the IV fluids when he was. Otherwise we'd be dealing with a whole other set of complications."

"I sense that there are things that you're not telling us," Rossi stated.

Taken aback, Dr. Hill turned his attention to the older man. "You're right. The full extent of Dr. Reid's injuries are a matter of his right to privacy. I do not have the legal right to fill you in on all of the damage done to him. I can tell you, however, that none of his injuries are life threatening and that the surgery, while imperative is not life or death."

Well, that was better than Rossi had been expecting. "All right. I understand the legal constraints you are under but can you at least tell us how SSA Hotchner is doing?"

"SSA Hotchner is also in stable condition. He has several cuts and bruises as well. The orthopaedic surgeon is with him now to determine the amount of intervention needed for his arm and hip. Beyond that I can't tell you anything else. Again, right to privacy," Dr. Hill said. He knew he'd overstepped the bounds by telling them about the surgeon but he felt they needed to know.

"When will Reid be out of surgery?" Morgan asked. He desperately wanted to beat the doctor within an inch of his life. They were Reid and Hotch's family. They were the only family that the young genius and their boss had. Well, Hotch did have Jack but it wasn't like the child was going to understand anything the doctor could tell him. Frustrated beyond reasoning, the only thing keeping him under any control was Garcia's gentle hand on his arm.

"It could take two hours or five. I'll know better when I get in there. Once I'm finished I will come and tell you personally, I promise," Dr. Hill stated. He could feel the animosity rolling off the larger man in waves. He wasn't entirely sure he blamed him. "Now. Please be patient. I've got to go scrub up."

"Thank you, doctor," J.J. stated as the man opened the door and left the room. She was both relieved and frustrated to the point of screaming. "Well, I guess we wait some more."

"I'm sorry about all the secrecy," Roy said, looking at the agents.

"They're doing their jobs," Rossi responded as he sank back down into his chair. At least with the door open the room didn't seem quite so stuffy. He was suddenly feeling famished but didn't want to leave the room in case the orthopaedic surgeon showed up to tell them nothing.

"I'm going to the cafeteria," Roy said. He too was suddenly feeling very hungry. He knew the two agents that had spent the night up on the mountain were probably worse off than he. He also knew that there wasn't a hope in hell that they were going to leave this room until they'd heard about their boss. Catching Johnny's eye, he hitched his head toward the door. He was going to need a few extra pairs of hands.

OOOOO

Bright lights left Hotch blinking, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. The sounds around him were muffled, leaving him feeling like he was a few feet under water. Panic surfaced. Images of the unsub attacking himself and Reid began playing through his unfocused eyes. Instinctively, he pulled against the hands holding him down on the too hard, cold surface beneath his back.

"Whoa. Take it easy agent Hotchner. We're here to help you," a female voice stated from somewhere above Hotch's head. Rationally he knew the woman was probably right but irrationally he didn't want to be held down. It was then he realized he was naked lying on the table. Fear and shame raged through Hotch's mind. He hated being naked in front of anyone, especially strangers. It made him feel vulnerable.

"Leave me alone," Hotch said, his voice slurred thanks to the heavy medications they had pumped into his system.

"We're trying to help. Please stop fighting," the woman said, her voice full of concern.

"Leave me alone," Hotch repeated as he continued to struggle weakly against the too strong, grasping hands. The hands seemed to be everywhere. He wasn't sure how many people were surrounding him but he desperately wished they'd all go away. Someone was twisting and turning his leg, manipulating his hip. Not a pleasant sensation in and of itself. An even less pleasant sensation knowing that by moving his leg in this fashion they were exposing him in ways that mortified him fuelled his struggles.

"Give him Adivan," a male voice demanded from somewhere around Hotch's feet. The panic increased tenfold. No. He didn't want to lose control. Hotch's struggles increased. Then he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and the world slowly floated away.

_A/N: Hello! No, I haven't disappeared into the Twilight Zone. It's just been one of those summers. Watching a Criminal Minds marathon on A & E has nudged my muse. I hope you enjoyed the results. I'll update again as soon as I can. Thanks for being patient. I really do appreciate all the reviews and knowing how many people are waiting for this. Take care._

_Susanne_


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

In the waiting room time seemed to have stopped. The anxiety level in the small area increased exponentially with each passing minute. Each member of the team dealt with it differently. None of them were very successful though.

OOOOO

Pain waited at the surface. Aaron knew that intuitively. For a few brief moments he considered staying where he was, in the darkness, where he felt safe and healthy. It only took an image of Reid as he'd last seen him to send the Unit Chief rocketing to the surface of his mind.

"Spencer!" Hotch gasped as the pain he'd expected to find pounced on his mind and body. Blinking frantically, he tried to adjust his light dazzled eyes to the world around him so he could figure out where his junior tea m member was. Unconsciously, he grabbed hold of the blankets over his body with his good hand and tried to throw them off as he attempted to stand up. All he knew was that he had to reach the thin young man who was himself in a great deal of pain. In the too bright world on the other side of his eyes, Aaron thought he saw a slightly less brilliant area move toward him.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," a male voice stated from somewhere. The blob was hovering over him.

His brown eyes finally adjusted to the light in the room, Hotch became dimly aware of the fact that the room he was in was Spartan in furnishings. There was the bed he was struggling to get out of, another bed a short distance away, a large window opposite his bed and two vinyl, uncomfortable looking chairs. Oh, and there were night tables as Aaron discovered as he sent the one beside his bed flying when he tried to use it as a cane to reach his feet. Large windows covered the wall opposite his bed, creating the bright light that had blinded him. Someone had left the shades wide open.

Then strong hands caught hold of him as a male nurse pressed him back down into the bed. The pain that had vanished when panic had descended on Hotch's mind abruptly returned. With a low groan, Aaron crumpled into the bed.

"That's better," the nurse said as he gently repositioned the FBI agent's body onto the hospital bed. At the moment Hotch seemed to be just flailing arms and legs. He'd been expecting the man to come around soon but not with the violence he'd demonstrated thus far. This much agitation wasn't good for the agent's rate of recovery. He was going to have to do something about that.

"Where's Reid?" Hotch demanded as he panted through the pain. His eyes darted around the room as he continued to try to evaluate his situation. Something was getting in his way, though, keeping his mind from functioning properly. Finally his attention turned to the nurse as he injected a liquid into the port on his IV line. Knowing immediately that it was the drugs they were pumping into him to keep the pain manageable that was clouding his mind, Hotch tried to use his other hand to pull the offending tube out of his arm. All he managed to do was to bat at the plastic tubing with his heavily cast hand.

"Dr. Reid is in surgery," the nurse stated as he continued to readjust Hotch back onto his bed. Damn but the man was stubborn as he continued to try to gain his feet. The drugs weren't taking effect as quickly as he'd hoped.

"Which room?" Hotch demanded. The youngest member of his team was somewhere in this building without anyone to watch over him. Logically he knew the doctors were doing their best to take care of Spencer but with all the drugs in his system and the trauma to his own body, Hotch wasn't thinking particularly logically at the moment.

"If you don't calm down I'm going to have to call the doctor and get a stronger sedative for you," the nurse stated as he took a step back. With the way the agent was fighting with him, he wasn't convinced he wasn't causing the man more harm than good.

"No," Hotch grated as he slumped back onto the bed. As much as he desperately wanted to go in search of his friend/subordinate, his body just wasn't cooperating as every ounce of strength his panic had created evaporated. Reluctantly, Hotch's eye lids fluttered shut over his brown eyes and oblivion took over once again.

OOOOO

Pain. It was both an emotion and physical response to trauma. It was a sensation that Dr. Spencer Reid was all too familiar with. It was also a sensation that he wasn't afraid to face. As he slowly came back to himself, Reid hoped desperately that the doctors hadn't increased his discomfort by giving him drugs.

A low moan escaped from Reid's slightly parted lips. He was dimly aware that the sound he'd heard had come from him. It was a response to all the damage that had been done to his body. Reid was greatly relieved to realize that there wasn't any pain as he pried his eyes opened.

"Hello there," a far too peppy female voice stated from Reid's right side.

Scanning in that direction, Reid found a brunette nurse fussing with the tube running into his arm. Upon seeing the needle, Reid's automatic response was to pull it out. He'd had enough of needles. They reminded him of his addiction to dilaudid, an episode of his life he wasn't eager to revisit. Clumsily, he tried to pull it out.

"Whoa. We need to leave that in for a while," the nurse said as she gently moved Reid's hand away. "How are you feeling?"

"MMMhhff," was all that came out as Reid blinked rapidly and took in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed of course was the lack of Hotch. This revelation sent a spike of fear through his body. Then Reid took a closer look. He was in the recovery ward. Apparently they'd just finished giving him some form of anaesthetic. Looking down his body, all Reid could see was a white cotton blanket.

"Still a little dopey, huh?" the nurse asked. She pulled a second blanket out of somewhere and carefully laid it over Reid's body. He was only dimly aware that the process didn't hurt.

"What?" Reid got out. The longer he was awake the better he was getting control of his own body and mind. Ignoring the nurse, Reid made a quick assessment of his body. He had bruises and abrasions on his arms and legs. Where they came from he didn't try to remember. His torso and stomach were in similar shape. Holding his breath, Reid tentatively ran his free hand over his pelvis.

"You just came out of surgery. The doctors will explain everything that had to be done after you're more aware and we have you down in your room," the nurse said as she fussed with his blankets, etc.

"Hotch?" Reid asked as he continued to explore. All he really found were bandages. Before he could check under them to try to figure out what exactly had been done, the nurse caught hold of his hand and pulled it up over top of the blankets.

"Is that the other agent? He's down in the room all ready," the nurse prattled on. "I think your friends didn't want you to be separated or something."

"Good," Reid said. Shifting in the blankets, he tried to figure out what the nurse had stopped him from finding out. The fact that he couldn't feel anything at all under the bandages freaked him out a little.

A second nurse entered the room. There were several beds but at the moment only Reid's was occupied. Moving over to Reid, the nurse began releasing the brakes on his bed.

"Since you're awake, we're going to move you downstairs," the nurse explained as the two of them rolled Reid and his bed out of the room.

OOOOO

"The two agents are settling into their room," Dr. Hill announced once he'd entered the waiting room. The surgery had gone remarkably well but he wasn't going to tell them that. As a bone, though, he had come to the waiting room to talk to the impatient agents. "Give us about half an hour. After that, you can visit them two at a time. They've been through a lot and need to get as much sleep as they can."

"How are they?" Morgan asked, relief making his knees a little weak. Beside him Penelope stifled a sob as she listened for the doctor's next words. Unconsciously, Morgan snaked an arm around the blond computer tech and held her against his side.

"They came through very well," Hill hedged.

"What about Reid? Did you give him any narcotics?" Dave asked. He too was feeling a little weak at the knees. It was almost over.

"No. So far it seems we are able to manage his pain without them," Hill stated as he looked around at the very concerned faces watching him like a hawk. Clearly this group was more of a family than simply a team of people who worked together. He felt he had to at least give them that. "Give us half an hour then you can come up to room 212."

"Thank you, doctor," Emily said as the man turned and left. Sighing deeply, she sank down into the chair she'd flown out of when the doctor had entered the room. Two chairs away, J.J. did the same.

"Thank God," J.J. breathed. Then they settled in to wait yet again.

_A/N: Yes. I know. It's been far too long. If it's any consolation, it's been even longer for all my other stories. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'll try to do better with the next one. Thanks for sticking with me and sending me all the wonderful reviews! They make me very happy!_

_Susanne_


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Feeling like crap despite all the drugs these people were pumping into him, Hotch was pleasantly surprised when the door to his room opened up and Reid was rolled in on a gurney. Suddenly feeling much better, Hotch tried to prop himself up on his right elbow so he could watch as the nurses carefully transferred the thin young man onto the bed just a few feet away from him. Letting go of a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding, Hotch relaxed for the first time in what felt like days.

"Reid," Hotch said once the nurses had his young colleague settled in his bed and all his lines running properly. The Unit Chief was only mildly surprised to see a urine bag being hung on the side of Reid's bed. After the damage the unsub had caused he'd expected the doctors to put a tube into his bladder. The last thing Reid needed was to have to pass urine naturally for a little while. The liquid slowly draining into the clear IV bag was tinged pink. Clearly Reid was still bleeding.

Blinking his eyes, Reid slowly turned his head toward the sound of Hotch's voice. Seeing his boss for the first time in an eternity, Reid felt tears prick in the corners of his eyes. Relief made him light headed. "Hotch."

"Are you all right?" Hotch asked as he moved as close as he could to his young colleague.

"F...Fine," Reid managed, his throat suddenly seemed very dry. He'd had to lick his lips and swallow to find enough moisture to respond.

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked. As much as he wanted that to be Reid's answer, he also knew how much damage had been done. The chances that Reid really was fine were pretty damned slim. A quick glance at the urine bag and Hotch knew he wasn't okay.

"Yeah. No pain," Reid replied. "How about you?"

"What do you mean 'no pain'?" Hotch asked. Fear spiked through him. He knew the doctors had been made aware of Reid's past addiction and had made an effort to accommodate that. The fact that he didn't feel any pain at all despite everything that was wrong with him scared the hell out of the Unit Chief.

Before Reid could further explain his comment, the doctor walked in the room. He wanted to talk to his patients before their visitors descended. Again, he was worried about their privacy, especially where it concerned Reid. The younger man had been through a lot, some of which was particularly sensitive in nature. If Reid wanted to explain to his friends what had happened to him that was up to him. There was no way the doctor had any intentions of being the one to spill the beans.

"Good afternoon," the doctor said as he addressed both men. He'd seriously considered putting the men in single rooms but realized that separating them would slow their recovery, not expedite it.

"Hi," Reid mumbled. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what they'd done to him but the complete lack of sensation in his pelvic region was also really beginning to freak him out. He wanted to look the doctor in the eye but for some reason the blankets that covered his body had become infinitely entertaining. He couldn't tear his eyes off it while he fingered the edges.

"Hello," Hotch responded, unconsciously sending a concerned look at Reid. "How did you block Spencer's pain?" It was the only question he really needed answered at the moment.

The doctor was visibly startled by the intensity in both Hotch's voice and brown eyes. He was accustomed to having patients ask urgent questions about themselves first. It was seldom that he had one so concerned about another's welfare, except within families. Suddenly it made sense. Relaxing a little, he put on his official doctor face and voice.

"Well, let's start at the beginning. Dr. Reid has signs of frost bite on his nose and cheeks, not terribly surprising considering the amount of time you spent on the mountain during a blizzard. There are signs of a mild concussion that apparently occurred during the plane crash. There shouldn't be any lasting affects except possibly a mild headache. You have broken ribs on your right side, two to be exact. While very uncomfortable, they should heal without incident if you follow your doctor's orders. As you know, there are bruises and scrapes, probably from blows from someone's hands and feet. Again, these should heal.

"Finally, we come to the more serious injuries. The pubic synthesis, the place where your pelvic bones connect just about the area of your genitals, has been cracked. We've fashioned a removable brace to ensure that the synthesis heals properly. While it may be uncomfortable due to the amount of pressure it will place over your pelvis and associated parts, it's better than putting a plate and screws. Your recovery time will be significantly less and it should heal well enough to not cause any impairment of movement.

"Unfortunately, the brace will put some pressure on your genitals, which, as you know, have been badly bruised. Our examination has excluded more serious injury but it will still be very painful until it heals. We've put a urinary catheter in to prevent swelling from closing down the urethra. It will have to be replaced regularly to prevent your healing flesh from attaching to it. I estimate it should be removed in about a week, depending on how quickly you heal," the doctor said. He knew not to leave anything out. Neither man would appreciate it. He did notice, however, that Reid's face turned both red with embarrassment and white with remembered pain. Hotch, on the other hand just turned red with anger.

"This still doesn't explain why Reid isn't feeling any pain," Hotch pressed.

"Given Dr. Reid's stated wishes, we used a spinal block very similar to that given to mothers during child birth. It had blocked the pain receptors but it will wear off. Then you'll have to decide what form of pain management we use from there. The block will keep you from using your legs. Obviously, the longer it's kept in place, the more muscles your legs will lose. The decision is yours," the doctor finished.

"How long until the block wears off?" Reid asked. He'd finally been able to tear his eyes away from his blankets. Deep inside he'd been afraid that some time during his treatment that the doctors had screwed up and left him paralyzed. They had been the words he'd been expecting to hear. Everything else had been a let down by comparison. Breathing easier, he'd turned his attention to the doctor.

"It's different for everyone, their systems clear the drugs at different rates. The average is 18 to 24 hours."

"So we have some time to come up with other options," Hotch stated. He felt significantly better about the whole thing now that he knew they hadn't given Reid narcotics.

"Yes, we do."

"Your injuries are less dramatic. Agent Hotchner, you have cracked ribs, a badly bruised right arm and a broken left arm. The left arm is broken in two places along the radius and ulna. We were able to set it without surgery. You should regain full function with some physical therapy.

"You also have frost bite damage to your cheeks and nose but this will heal without a mark given a little time. You sustained a severe concussion during the crash. This would result in a number of symptoms including memory loss of the event, severe headaches and nausea. You too have numerous cuts and bruises but over a more extensive area of your body. You will be suffering from stiffness and pain from these until they have a chance to heal. I do have one question for you. What exactly did you do to your right leg?"

Hotch could see the mild amusement in the doctor's eyes. Clearly he knew that Aaron had done something rash to incur the damage to his hip. His face began to turn red for another reason as embarrassment replaced the anger.

"He tried to kick in the cockpit door after the crash," Reid supplied helpfully. He was relieved to have the doctor's attention moved away from him.

"It must have been a pretty impressive kick. Upon examining x-rays of your hip joint we found that there were several burrs of bone that were limiting your movement in your leg. The chips to the hip joint itself would have caused you a great deal of discomfort as well. We were able to remove the burrs laproscopically to reduce your recovery time. Again you will have to undergo some physical therapy but it shouldn't be too extensive.

"Do either of you have any questions?" the doctor asked.

"Where are the other agents from my unit?" Hotch asked. Now that he knew that there shouldn't be any permanent disability for either of them after their adventure he really needed to see his friends. Once he saw Rossi, Emily, J.J. and Morgan he'd know for sure that the worst was over. The only thing that would be better would be seeing Jack but that would have to wait until he could fly back home.

"Waiting impatiently outside. I'll ask them to come in when I leave. But please, don't let them stay for long. Both of you need your rest. You've been through a lot," the doctor stated, grinning ruefully. He had the feeling he'd better come back within the hour to kick the other agents out of the room. Intuitively he knew they would not leave under their own steam.

Nodding at his patients, the doctor left the room, leaving the door open behind him. The other agents were crowded in the hallway, impatiently waiting to get inside the room. To see their friends and co-workers with their own eyes so they could confirm for themselves that they really were all right.

"All right, you can go in to see them but please don't stay too long. Both Agent Hotchner and Dr. Reid need their rest."

"Thank you, doctor," Rossi said as the others basically ran for the door. Shaking his head in mock disbelief, Dave was the last one through the door.

_A/N: Hello! The first thing I have to say is that I'm not a doctor. Therefore, any medical inconsistencies are my fault. It all makes perfect sense in my mind. Hopefully it's actually true in the real world. On second thought, it doesn't REALLY matter as it works in the realm of my story. Still, I try to be as accurate as I can._

_Secondly, I have to thank the reader who nominated this story for the Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds 2011 Awards under the heading of best Hotch and Reid friendship story. I didn't know about the awards until the day before I was informed that I was nominated. If you'd like to learn about the awards or to vote for this story (hint hint ;)), please check out ilovetvalot profile. There are a lot of stories nominated, you might find some others that you like there as well._

_Thirdly, I have to thank all of you for being so patient. My muse is intermittent at best right now. My other stories haven't been updated for more than two months. I'm finding it very frustrating. Your reviews and encouragement mean a lot. Please continue to be patient. I'm updating as fast as the story will let me._

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'm not too sure about how many more there will be but I'm guessing about five. I'll have to see where it goes._

_Bye for now._

_Susanne_


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

A small part of Hotch expected the women of his team to wail and beat their breasts like some bad movie upon seeing the state he and Reid were in. He was very proud, however, to find that all three women were silent as they filed in. Horror at the two agents' states only registered in their eyes for a moment before their professional demeanour took over again. Penelope, however, did duck her head for a moment to wipe at a tear when she took in Reid's condition.

"Hi," Hotch said to break the ice. He knew they looked bad. They'd been through hell and still had a while to go before the whole experience was behind them.

"Hi," Emily responded, a tentative smile on her lips. Her big brown eyes seemed larger still as she quickly took in the visible damage to both men. While she was particularly good at compartmentalizing, she noticed immediately that Reid had a urinary catheter with attendant urine bag and Hotch did not. The nausea that had been threatening ever since they'd heard about the plane crash got worse. Something bad had happened to Reid but she wasn't about to ask him about it. Not now. Not until he told her in his own time.

"Hi," Reid nearly squeaked. He had been dreading this moment for days. He couldn't lie to his friends. He could see from their concerned eyes that they knew their injuries extended beyond what they could see. From the way Emily was scanning the tubing running out from under his blankets, Reid knew she would figure it out sooner than he wanted her to. Suddenly shy beyond words, Reid's eyes fell down to his blankets and he started picking at the material.

"I'm so glad to see you two," Penelope said finally coming to herself. Swallowing her tears, she launched herself from the doorway to give each man a very careful hug followed by a quick peck on the cheek.

"It was Penelope who found where the plane was," Dave stated, trying to get over the awkwardness in the room. J.J. continued to hover by the door. She too had done a quick inventory of the agents' injuries. The extra padding around Reid's lower abdomen deeply concerned her. At the moment she didn't really trust herself to speak.

"I never had a doubt," Hotch stated. It hadn't surprised him at all. If anyone could have found them it was Garcia.

"I'm glad someone didn't," Penelope replied. Ignoring the others, she set a chair up between the two beds and settled herself into it.

"The doctor isn't going to let anyone stay," Dave cautioned. He knew that look. Garcia was preparing for the long haul. She had no intentions of leaving the room.

"How will he stop me?" Garcia responded. Bemused, Hotch settled back down into his bed. He was suddenly feeling very tired and old. Glancing over at Reid, he knew the younger man was feeling pretty much the same way.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Penelope, but I think we could both do with some sleep," Hotch said. He could virtually see Reid trying to squirm under the blankets and pull them over his head. It was a natural reaction given the extent of Reid's injuries and the intimacy of their nature. He hated to see it in his younger colleague and wanted to stop it ASAP.

"Go ahead, sleep," Penelope stated, still nicely settled in the chair. "I won't make a sound."

A little exasperated, Hotch looked at Rossi for some support. Reid wasn't going to want any witnesses to the medical procedures that were still going to have to be performed on him. It was bad enough that Hotch was in the same room.

"I understand the sentiment, Penelope, but we really do need to give them time to rest. How well do you sleep knowing there's someone in the room with you?" Rossi said, looking at the other members of his unit.

Picking up on his cue, Morgan moved over to Garcia and gently pulled her to her feet. Despite Reid not looking at them, he could see that the younger man was quickly wilting. Hotch wasn't far behind him. "Come on, Penelope, we need to go check into a hotel," he stated as guided the blond woman toward the door to the room.

"I don't want to leave them alone," Penelope whispered as Morgan led her outside.

"I know. None of us do," Morgan responded as he waited for the others to join them.

"Thanks," Hotch said to Rossi. The older agent was the last one in the room. J.J. and Emily had taken a more gracious exit.

"We'll come back in a few hours. Get some sleep," Rossi said, a small smile on his lips. As he left the room, he pulled the door shut behind him, blocking the noise of the busy hospital hallway.

"Are you okay?" Hotch asked his young colleague. A few feet away, Reid was lying on his back but his head was turned away from his boss. It was hard to tell if he was awake or not. Hotch tried to shift a bit in his bed to get a better view of Reid's face but his body would have none of it.

"Yeah," Reid's quiet voice drifted over his shoulder. "How about you?"

Heaving a great sigh, Hotch let his battered body resume its position on the bed. "Just tired."

Reid considered for a brief moment to inform Hotch about all the facts he knew about being tired but changed his mind as he heard his boss's breathing deepen as sleep stole over him. As uncomfortable as Reid was, thanks to the tubes coming out every which way, he too felt sleep trying to take over. Closing his eyes, he gave in.

OOOOO

The pain was back. It was back sooner than the doctor had told him it would be. Despair tried to overwhelm him. Spenser wanted so badly to stay in the darkness. At least here the pain was distant. He could feel it but it wasn't in his face, taking his breath away like he knew it would when he reached the surface of his mind.

Bracing himself, Reid took the plunge. As prepared as he was, he was still shocked by the intensity of the pain that assailed him. Gasping, Reid's eyes flew open as his hands moved toward his groin area. It was then he realized the reason for the pain. A nurse was standing between his and Hotch's bed and was replacing his catheter. He also realized that he was now lying on his side, facing Hotch's bed.

"I'm really sorry," the nurse said as she slipped the used catheter into a white trash bag that had the sign for biological waste on it. Now that she had finished the pain was lessening, slowly.

" 's okay," Reid managed between panting breaths. Sweat had beaded on his body during the procedure. He could feel it on his forehead, down the back of his neck and on his chest and abdomen. As the liquid started to cool, a chill followed it. He could feel his teeth starting to chatter a little.

"Just relax," the nurse said. "I'm going to give you a bath in just a moment."

Fear spiked through him. There was no way in hell Reid was about to let a woman, any woman, give him a bath. He knew intuitively it would be a sponge bath because while they'd rolled him onto his side sometime while he was asleep, the medical staff seemed unwilling to move him any further than necessary. Looking over at his boss's bed, Reid wasn't surprised to find Hotch's intense brown eyes gazing back at him.

Shame burned its way onto Reid's cheeks. His brown eyes began their unconscious slide away from Hotch's. "It's okay," Hotch said, causing Reid's eyes to retrace their journey.

"What was that, sir?" the nurse asked as she finished disposing of the medical waste and turned her attention to her next victim, er, patient.

Ignoring the woman, Hotch continued to hold Reid's gaze. "It's okay."

The shame slowly melted off Reid's thin face. Hotch was right. If this was the worst thing to happen to him while in this damned hospital, he'd get off lucky. Nodding his thanks, Reid tried not to watch as the nurse checked Hotch's wounds over. There really was no privacy in this place.

OOOOO

After a truly excruciating experience, Reid felt sleep stealing over him again. While he had to admit that he did feel a little cleaner, he wasn't sure it had been worth it. His only consolation was that she'd done the same to Hotch.

"How long was I asleep?" Reid asked once the nurse had left. He was starting to feel very uncomfortable. As carefully as he could, he tried to roll onto his back. He got a few inches in that direction and then his pelvis complained, loudly.

"About eighteen hours," Hotch responded. He was having a moment of self consciousness himself. As much as he'd tried to reassure his young colleague that the sponge bath hadn't been that big a deal, he too felt embarrassment burning on his cheeks. That was more than he'd ever wanted to see of Reid or to have Reid see of him. Staring at the closed window, he missed the fact that Reid became suddenly very still, his face twisted in a grimace as he rode the wave of pain burning through his body.

When he didn't get a response, Hotch pulled his eyes away from the window and carefully turned toward the bed beside him. As soon as he saw the look on Reid's face, he was reaching for the call button.

"No," Reid managed as he finally drew a breath. The pain was bad. Being paralyzed from the waist down was so much worse. Now that he could feel his legs and other appendages again, Reid realized just how panicky he'd been beneath the surface. The pain was so much better than the hole he'd experienced before.

"I need to call the doctor, Reid. This much pain isn't good for anyone," Hotch said. He had the call button in his hand. Still, he hesitated. He could see the desperation in Reid's eyes, the abject fear overriding the pain as it began to diminish.

"No," Reid echoed. It took him another moment to recover enough to continue. He could feel the sweat back, beading on his body and the red patches on his cheeks were slowly beginning to fade. "I don't want them to do another block. It feels look much like being a paraplegic."

"It's only temporary, Spencer. It's better than you feeling this much pain," Hotch tried to reason with the younger man. Hotch still felt under the weather and twinges of pain every once in a while, particularly in his arm and hip but he wasn't about to ask for more pain killers either. His head had been muddled up for too long as it was.

"No. I'd rather have the pain," Reid hissed. The railing was up on the side of the bed. He caught hold of it with his left hand and gripped it while the pain slowly abated. He guessed he wasn't going to be doing a lot of moving on his own for a little while.

"Are you sure?" Hotch persisted. He was fingering the button while he waited for Reid's response. While he waited, he took in Reid's pale, sweat slicked face and his uneven breathing. This wasn't good.

"Positive," Reid panted. After what felt like an eternity, the pain eased and then vanished. Reid wasn't sure he wanted to try to move again anytime soon but at the moment he was grateful for the reprieve.

"Okay," Hotch said, letting the button fall back down to the bed.

"Where are the others?" Reid asked, trying to change the subject.

"Down in the cafeteria. I told them to go get something to eat. This room was getting a little claustrophobic," Hotch admitted. He knew the other members of his team meant well but the room really was too small for all of them to just spend time hanging out.

The mention of food brought home to Reid the fact that he hadn't eaten in a very long time. "When's supper?" he asked, looking up at Hotch, a small grin spreading across his face.

Feeling like the world had turned a corner away from the strange reality they'd been living in, Hotch smiled too. "I'll call for room service."

_A/N: Yeah, that's kind of an odd place to stop the chapter. It made sense at the time though! I hope you enjoyed it. I still have no idea how many more chapters there will be but the story is definitely winding down. Thank you very much for your wonderful reviews and for your patience. I'm updating as fast as my muse will let me, honest!_

_Susanne_


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked, looking at the doctor intently. He wanted to make sure the man wasn't lying to them. What he'd just said sounded too good to be true.

"Yes. I've scheduled the flight to take both of you back to Virginia. I'm assuming that you and your team will be more comfortable with you closer to home," the doctor repeated. It had been three days. All of the FBI agents were chomping at the bit. Reid hated the constant attention. He hadn't told the others the extent of his injuries, it was just too personal. He knew that Rossi and Morgan knew but the girls were still in the dark. The longer they hung around the hospital room, though it was more likely that they would figure it out. That was not something he wanted to happen, nor a discussion he wanted to have.

"How long until the plane is ready?" Dave asked. He was as anxious as the others to get back to more familiar territory.

"Within the hour," the doctor stated. "I've also set up appointments with physical therapists for both of you. They'll see you tomorrow at the hospital."

"Sounds good," Morgan stated, looking at the two men in the beds. Two days ago they'd gotten Hotch sitting up in a chair. He'd been uncomfortable but had insisted on staying there for four hours before he'd let the orderlies put him back in bed. The process had wiped him out. The next day he could only do two hours. "No offense but we're all ready to get back home."

"None taken. I understand perfectly," the doctor responded. He looked around the room at the happy agents. Apparently he'd made the right decision.

"Your jet will be waiting for the ambulance," the doctor assured them. "We just need to make sure that everything is in working order so you can travel. Why don't the rest of you go back to your hotel and pack your bags?"

Knowing what the doctor probably had in mind, Dave readily agreed. If it meant they were going to go home, he was up for just about anything. "Sure. We'll be back shortly."

OOOOO

The trip over to the airport was easier than Reid had expected. The brace on his hips seemed to keep the vibrations, etc., from affecting him. He was very happy to see their jet sitting on the tarmac, its engines running. Getting up the stairs for both of them was a little more difficult than either had anticipated but it was well worth the pain and effort.

The familiar surrounds did wonders for Reid's outlook. He could almost ignore the nurse and paramedic that had to make the flight with them. He was in one of the two couches while Hotch was lying in the other one.

"You can stop fussing," Hotch growled. He couldn't help it. He hated the poking and prodding the nurse was doing as part of their in flight entertainment. At least that's what it seemed like. "I'm fine."

"I know that Mr. Hotchner but I need to make sure of it," the nurse responded as she continued to blow up the BP cuff on his right arm. Glancing over at Reid, Hotch concentrated on controlling his temper. He took solace in the fact that they were almost home. He was going to be able to see Jack soon. The very thought of it caused his pulse to race slightly. By the frown on the nurse's face apparently she didn't appreciate the physical response much.

"I'm fine," Hotch growled. He hated losing his patience with the medical staff when they were just doing their jobs but what patience he had had worn thin a long time ago. The fact that the drugs were handling the pain and that he was on the all too familiar jet were making him feisty. Somewhere beyond his head he knew that the other members of his team were settling into their usual chairs, getting ready for takeoff.

The confidence Spencer had felt after the ambulance ride over quickly evaporated as the jet began taxiing toward the runway. As it made its turn and began to accelerate the dull ache in Reid's pelvis quickly began to change into a sharp pain. Sucking breath in between his clenched teeth, Reid dug his fingers into the padding of the sofa. Instinctually, his brown eyes clenched shut as the front end of the jet left the ground and the pain increased as well.

"Dr. Reid?" the nurse asked from her seat. She and the paramedic had taken seats as well so they could be strapped in for takeoff, similar straps had been jury rigged on the couches. "Are you all right?"

Riding out his own discomfort on the other couch, Hotch forced open his eyes to look at his young profiler. Fear spiked through his system. Even at this distance he could see the white lines at the corner of his mouth and eyes. His face was white as were the knuckles of his hand where he was gripping the cushion. "Reid?"

"I'm fine," Reid grated out through his teeth. "I'm fine."

The urge to yell at the pilot to land the plane nearly overwhelmed Hotch. It killed him to see the younger man in this much pain. But he knew that Reid wouldn't thank him for pushing drugs on him. It killed him just the same though.

"Once we are up in the air, Dr. Reid, I could request another spinal block from the doctor," the nurse pressed.

"NO!" Reid roared as best he could. No matter what he wasn't going to let them do that to him again. The pain was preferable at this point. Just as he was about to consider changing his position on that, the plane levelled out and the pain eased considerably. "I'm fine."

"How many times are you going to tell us that?" Morgan asked. He'd unbuckled from his chair and moved over to kneel beside his friend on the couch. As he watched color returned to Reid's thin face and his brown eyes flickered open. Blinking rapidly, it took a moment for his attention to fall onto his friend's concerned face.

"As many times as needed until you start believing me," Reid replied. To prove the point he unfastened the belt holding him to the couch. It wasn't helping matters much. "I'm fine."

Slowly a smile spread across Morgan's face. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he believed Spencer. Despite it all, despite having to deal with the pain and the rehabilitation that was in his future, Dr. Spencer Reid was going to be fine. Maybe even better than fine. The dark cloud that had descended over Morgan's mind upon hearing of his friends' disappearance slowly broke up and floated away.

"I know, kid, I just wanted to make sure you knew that," Morgan stated. Satisfied that his friend was okay, Morgan ruffled his unruly hair, stood up and went back to his seat. They were going home. Nothing else really mattered.

OOOOO

"Is all of this really necessary?" Hotch asked as he was being loaded onto a gurney in preparation of being put in an ambulance. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see Jack. He wanted to sleep in his own bed. None of these things seemed to be anywhere on the horizon. Even though he was home and that felt great, it wasn't quite enough to keep his mood from darkening just a little.

"Well," the paramedic who was helping stated. "The other option is to pick you up and throw you out and hope someone catches you. Somehow I think this is better."

For a split second Hotch wasn't sure if the man was serious. Then he saw the sparkle of mischief in his light blue eyes. The man's eyes reminded him instantly of Jack. Damn but he wanted to see his son. Cooperating despite his urge to fight the process, Hotch was quickly and efficiently loaded onto the gurney, taken down the stairs and loaded into a waiting ambulance. Lord he was learning to hate ambulances.

"We'll be following right behind you," Morgan reassured Hotch. He was waiting with his boss in the ambulance while they repeated the process with Reid.

"No. You guys all need to go home for a while. It'll take time for them to get us situated and run all their idiotic tests. Tomorrow I expect all of you to be back at the office. Strauss must be ready to burst an aneurysm," Hotch replied. He'd let his guard down. It didn't happen very often. Being at home, at least the right city, had loosened some of the tension in his mind and body.

"We will go home but first I want to make sure you're settled and have everything you need," Morgan pressed. While talking to Hotch he was watching at the paramedics lifted Reid down the stairs. He practically held his breath as if he expected them to drop the younger agent.

"We'll be fine," Hotch replied. From the open ambulance door he could see Rossi and the girls hovering at the bottom of the stairwell. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to being worried about. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to.

"I know that," Morgan said as the group made their way across the tarmac, Reid lying on the gurney and looking embarrassed by all the attention.

"If you really want to make sure I have everything I need then bring Jack over later on today. I'd loved to see him," Hotch's strong veneer broke open just a little bit more. He'd tried desperately to not voice that desire. Watching Reid coming closer reminded him of how much he missed his son for the thirtieth time today.

"No problem," Morgan said as he climbed out of the ambulance to make room for the second gurney and the paramedics. It felt like a physical pain when the doors to the vehicle slammed shut, disconnecting him from his boss and 'little brother'. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Morgan watched as the ambulance pulled away. "Let's go home."

_A/N: Hello! Thank you for sticking with me. As always of late my muse is elusive. I hope to finish this story and my other three after Christmas. Here`s hoping I`m right._

_Thank you to everyone who voted for this story in the 2011 Profiler`s Choice Awards. I tied for Best Hotch/Reid story. I'm absolutely thrilled! _

_I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. At least I got them back to familiar ground._

_Bye for now._

_Susanne_


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

The hospital room was a little more posh than their previous Spartan surroundings. The doctors who admitted them had tried to put them in separate rooms. Despite knowing that the younger man was perfectly safe, the unsub was long dead on the mountainside, Hotch wouldn't allow it. He insisted on being placed in a double room.

Lying on his bed, Hotch glanced over at Reid as the nurses puttered over both of them. He knew the younger man found the attention uncomfortable but he was handling it well. The only clue to the thin man's discomfort was a slight red tinge to his cheeks. For his part, Hotch was too busy anticipating seeing his son to care what new terrors the nurses had in mind for him. A weak smile from Reid and he knew that Spencer had seen him watching him.

"We're almost done, SSA Hotchner and Dr. Reid," a young male nurse told them. He'd been writing information in Reid's chart and moved over to Hotch's now that he was done.

"We're getting used to this," Hotch admitted as the nurse at his side blew up a BP cuff to take his blood pressure for what felt like the thousandth time in the last few days.

"I can well imagine," the nurse responded as he wrote down the numbers the other nurse told him once the cuff had finished doing its job. "From what I hear the two of you have had quite the adventure."

"Adventure is one word to describe it," Hotch had to admit. Much to Spencer's chagrin, the all too female nurse was checking his catheter, at both ends. He wished desperately that they could get rid of the damned thing but even he had to admit that he was still too swollen for that to be a possibility.

"Well, I'd get some rest today if you can. Tomorrow you both start with physical therapists. We want to get you up and about as soon as possible," the male nurse said. The other two were finished and after adjusting the blankets on each bed, they nodded to their patients and headed out the door. "My name is Peter. The other two are Mary and Rita. I assume you know all about the call button. If you need anything, please call us."

"Thank you," Hotch responded automatically. He could see from the increased color on Reid's cheeks that it would be a while before his colleague was ready for another encounter with the medical staff.

"Sure thing. The desk is ten feet outside the door. I'm on all night but Rita and Mary are off at 7pm. Their replacements will probably come and introduce themselves soon after that." Satisfied that his charges were as comfortable as possible at the moment, Peter turned and left the room as well.

"I'd rather be at home," Reid grumbled as the door shut quietly behind the nurse.

"Me too," Hotch stated as he settled a little deeper into his bed. He had to admit that it was more comfortable than the last one and that the trip here had tired him more than he liked. Now that the room was quiet, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

Forcing his brown eyes open one last time, Hotch checked on Reid. He was mildly relieved to find that Spencer was all ready lightly snoring a few feet away. The sound of his relaxed, gentle breathing was all it took before he too joined the land of sleep.

OOOOO

"Daddy?"

The voice sounded like it came directly from heaven. Rocketing to the top of his mind, Hotch practically flew off the surface of his hospital bed. He knew that voice. It was Jack!

"Buddy?" Hotch said, his unfocused brown eyes coming to rest on a dark haired blur that launched itself at him. Ignoring everything but the warmth of his son's body and the scent of his hair, Hotch held Jack while he looked around the room.

"Sorry it took so long," Morgan stated as he watched the reunion. He glanced over at Reid's bed to find that the young profiler was awake and watching too. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he saw a tear in the corner of Reid's eye. The younger man was smiling wider than Derek had seen in days. For the first time, Morgan felt the tension, that had taken up residence in his stomach after hearing about the plane crash, slowly begin to ease.

"Thank you," Hotch replied, still clutching his son to his chest. All of his aches and pains had disappeared. Jack, having seen his father one other time in a hospital bed was holding on for dear life as well. Even at his young age, he knew he'd lost his mom and couldn't afford to lose his dad too.

"I brought something else but I don't think the doctor ordered it," Garcia stated as she slipped into the room, two large brown paper bags in hand.

"Coffee?" Reid asked, forcing his body up off the bed. He could kill for a cup of coffee, any kind of coffee. All ready the small room was filling with the scents of too rich food.

"Maybe," Penelope stated, a twinkle in her eye. Before she could start unloading her bags, however, the hospital room door opened once more to reveal J.J., Emily and Dave. Clutched in Emily's hands was a carry out tray from Reid's favourite coffee place.

"Coffee!" Reid practically shouted. He never thought he would be so happy to see and smell that warm, brown brew again. Eagerly, he help out his hand to receive the too hot paper cup. "Thank you!"

"Now," Hotch said as Jack squirmed out of his arms to sit on the bed beside him. "What's in those bags?"

OOOOO

"Good morning!" an all too chipper voice washed over Reid. Blinking fast to adjust his eyes to the too bright light, Spencer found a perky middle aged blond woman hovering at the side of his bed. Still not quite figuring things out, Reid turned his head toward Hotch's bed only to find that it was empty. How hard had he been sleeping?

The events of the night before played through his mind. While the food had been incredibly good and the coffee had been even better, that wouldn't account for how deeply he'd obviously been sleeping. Then Reid remembered that after everyone had left the nurse had come in, one he hadn't been introduced to. She'd checked their vitals and then injected something into each of their IV bags.

Fear spiked through Reid's mind. What had been in that syringe? They had drugged him without his consent? Then another, deeper concern burst to the surface.

"Where's Hotch?" Reid croaked. His voice was scratchy from lack of use.

"Hotch?" the woman parroted, her too bright smile dimming slightly. Now that he was more cognisant, Reid saw that the woman was dressed in traditional nurse's uniform, not quite surgical scrubs but very similar. The large pink elephants that adorned the brown scrubs were a little disconcerting, however.

"Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. He should be in the next bed," Reid responded, barely keeping from growling. This woman was too bubbly to wake up to after the last few days. The absence of Hotch threw another level of anxiety through Reid's battered system.

"Oh, him. I understand that he's down in the therapy rooms. Now that that's out of the way, shall we concentrate a little more on you?" the woman said. The brilliant smile was back. With a sinking feeling, Reid realized she was planning on concentrating a great deal of attention on him.

"Ah," Reid hedged as he frantically tried to come up with a rebuttal. Pressure in his bladder told him that he needed his urine back emptied. The pressure wasn't terribly painful but given his other injuries it was uncomfortable. Suddenly completely losing his train of thought, Reid only wanted to deal with the bag. Now that he was aware of it, the pressure seemed to grow exponentially with each passing second. Reaching over, he tried to find the call button.

"The first thing we need to do is get you sitting a little less horizontal," the therapist stated. Oblivious to the young man's distress, she began manipulating the controls on the bed to bring his torso and head up above the rest of his body.

Instantly, Reid was assailed by an intense wave of nausea. His body broke out in a cold sweat as his skin went clammy. Gagging, Reid finally caught hold of the button and pushed on it frantically. Whoever this woman was, he wanted her as far away from him as possible.

"How does that feel, Dr. Reid?" the woman asked as she finally turned her attention back to her patient. She'd read the history before entering the room but hadn't realized just how long the young man had been horizontal. Seeing the effects, she moved to quickly lower the bed to almost its former position.

"Dr. Reid?" Peter asked as he entered the room. Quickly he assessed the situation and moved to Reid's side. Even with the slight elevation of his bed, he still felt the nausea but not quite as extremely as before. Now that the nausea had lessened slightly, he was more aware of his other problem. Peter checked Reid's chart while the young man tried to compose himself enough to voice his needs.

"Damn it," Peter grunted. "Please give us a minute would you Daisy?"

"Sure thing. I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time," Daisy, the therapist, stated. In a moment she was out the door.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Reid," Peter said once the door closed. Quickly and efficiently, he shut off the catheter valve, removed the bag and hurried to the bathroom to empty it. It wasn't until he returned, replaced the bag and released the valve that the discomfort finally ebbed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Reid was only barely aware that in a matter of moments Peter repeated the procedure. "How is that?"

"Thank you!" Reid breathed. Among his profound relief, the young genius remembered his other concern. "What was in that needle last night?"

"Just a mild, non-narcotic sedative. The doctor was worried about nightmares and wanted you both to have at least one good night's sleep," Peter stated. "We're well aware of your special considerations Dr. Reid. We are endeavouring to abide by them."

Only slightly mollified, Peter's next words struck fear into Spencer's heart.

"I'll get Daisy to come back in. She's an excellent therapist but can be a little over zealous. If she pushes too hard just let her know," Peter stated as he slipped out the door.

A moment later Daisy came back in, her dazzling smile back at full wattage. "Are we ready to try this again?"

OOOOO

"We're almost there, Agent Hotchner," a therapist who made Morgan look small stated. Grunting through the pain burning from his hip, among other things, Hotch tried desperately to keep from beating the man to a pulp.

Logically he knew that Hugh, as the name plate on his too tight shirt stated, was just doing his job. Hotch was also well aware that Hugh was trying to get him back on his feet ASAP. His gratitude couldn't be measured in that respect. Letting Jack leave last night had been one of the hardest things Hotch had ever had to do. He wanted to get home to his son as soon as his body would let him, even sooner if he had anything to say about it.

At the moment though, the Unit Chief wanted the man to back off. He was positioned between two parallel bars trying to walk from one end of it to the other. It was a very short distance under normal circumstances but today it might as well have been a hundred miles. The surgery had made his hip go from bad to worse.

The incision site kept him from having full range of movement and the stressed muscles were screaming in protest. Sweat rolled down the sides of Hotch's flushed face as well as down the sides of his rib cage. It felt like he'd gone ten rounds with Morgan in hand to hand combat training but this was his first time walking the distance.

"Is this really necessary," Hotch asked. He knew the answer to the question all ready but in his irritation it slipped out. How much walking did he really have to do anyway? Couldn't he hide behind his desk all day? Okay, maybe he wasn't being rational but it made him feel better if only for a few seconds.

"That's up to you, Agent Hotchner. How fast do you want to return to work?" Hugh asked, a smile gracing his broad face. The man had close cropped brown hair and muscles to spare. Hotch wasn't sure how much of an advantage they gave him in his line of work but he seemed to be unaware of the powerful presence he presented.

Biting back another irritated response, Hotch forced his foot forward, sending stabbing pains through his hip. Sliding his hands along the bars on either side of him, he proceeded to put weight on his hip. In an instant his leg began crumbling underneath him as his hip gave way. Moving faster than Hotch thought possible for a man of his size, Hugh stepped forward and caught Aaron under the arms to keep him from hitting the ground.

"Falling will be the next lesson, agent. Let's try this again," Hugh said as he set Hotch back on his now wobbly legs. Sweating harder and breathing like a locomotive, Hotch paused to regain his composure. This was going to be a long day.

_A/N: Hello. I hope that I still have people waiting for me to write this. I promise I haven't abandoned any of my four stories. I'll get them done but it might take a while. My muse, as always of late, is elusive at best. To complicate matters my twenty year old cat is showing her age, which terrifies me, and now insists on sitting on my lap every chance she gets. Unfortunately, this prevents me from using my computer. I'm working on other methods but Misty is persistent. At this point in her life how can I refuse her? _

_Anyway, enough excuses. I hope to have the next chapter out soon. I really appreciate your patience. Thanks for sticking with me! We are getting close to the end, I hope. _

_Bye for now._

_Susanne_


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

Three times along the bars was all Hotch managed in two hours time. By then he was done, he was shaking like a leaf, sweaty like he'd run a marathon and weak as a kitten. It killed him to admit that he was grateful when Hugh helped him over to the wheel chair one of the aids had brought him down in. Sinking into its cold confines, the agent managed to not cry out when Hugh lifted his leg up to put it in the step. The last thing the man needed was to catch his feet on something on the way back to his room.

Satisfied he had Agent Hotchner settled in the chair, Hugh moved to kneel in front of him. He'd seen the pain, frustration and finally complete exhaustion and wanted to make sure the man was all right. Looking up at the agent's piercing, dark brown eyes, Hugh knew. The man was going to get through this. His strength of will was beyond anything the physical therapist had ever met before.

"How are you doing, Agent Hotchner?" Hugh asked. The session had been hard on the man. Clearly the agent was in very good physical condition. He wasn't used to his body not being able to do what he wanted it to. This was often a painful, devastating realization for patients in his condition.

"Tired," Hotch admitted. All ready his eyes were trying to close as his body tried to recoup some of its energy through sleep. "How long until this gets easier?"

Chuckling softly, Hugh dipped his head. Typical A type personality, always wanting to be in control, always wanting to know what was coming. Looking back at the man, he couldn't help the grin. "That depends on you, Agent Hotchner."

"Please, call me 'Hotch'. Everyone else does," Aaron interrupted.

"All right, Hotch, how long this takes depends on you and your body. If you're persistent despite the pain and discomfort, you'll be back to normal faster. That being said, if something I do or that you are doing causes any sharp pains or profound discomfort I need you to tell me. I expect you to have minor aches from using muscles that haven't been used for a few weeks. I don't expect you to pull any muscles or otherwise do yourself further damage," Hugh said. Seeing that the man understood, the therapist stood up and headed to the back of the chair. "Let's get you back to your room."

OOOOO

The afternoon in the hotel room was pretty quiet. Both Hotch and Reid were exhausted from their therapy sessions and promptly fell asleep. The only movement was from the nurses as they checked on their patients.

Around supper time Morgan stepped into the room. Both agents were still sleeping. Quietly, Morgan set down the food he'd brought with him and then helped Jack to climb onto his father's bed. Hotch was lying with his back against the wall. Somehow that didn't really surprise Morgan. Of course the Unit Chief would keep his back in a defensive position. Lifting the blanket gently, Morgan got Jack to slide in and covered them both.

Even in sleep, Hotch moved toward the scent of his son, wrapping a protective arm around him. Keeping an eye on Morgan as the agent moved to the chair, Jack smiled contentedly. His dad was here. He was safe. He was still big and strong and would protect him. All was right with the world.

Pulling a pocket novel out of his back pocket, Morgan prepared to wait. The food could be heated again. There wasn`t an active case at the moment so he had the time.

OOOOO

Time passed. In what seemed like a year and an hour at the same time Hotch was ready to leave the hospital. In reality it was five days while they made sure his injuries were healing properly and that his physical therapy was going well. While he was very eager to get home to his son and back to work, Aaron hated to leave Reid.

Sitting on his bed beside his packed duffle bag, Hotch turned toward his young agent. For his part, Reid was sitting up in the chair. He had learned to hate the bed in the time he`d been in the hospital. It wasn`t that it was uncomfortable or in any way restrictive, it was just that it reminded him all too well that he was still considered too sick to leave.

"The doctor said he'll let you out once the swelling has completely reduced," Hotch tried to reassure his youngest agent. He knew Reid hated to be left behind and that he hated the urinary catheter even worse. The fact that he was sitting up was more due to his stubbornness than to the fact that it didn't hurt. Hotch knew that it did cause discomfort for Reid to sit in the hard backed chair. It was too severe an angle with his continued swelling.

"I know," Reid responded. He was trying to not act like a child. He could easily see himself sticking his lower lip out, pouting like a spoiled child. That would be unbecoming of a Federal agent. Not to mention one with doctorates but damn it would feel good at the moment. He hated being left behind. He hated being separated from Hotch. He hated the damned urinary catheter. Still, he tried to hide all of these negative thoughts so that he could be happy for his friend and boss. At least Hotch was being allowed to go home to his son. That was a sign of progress.

"Is there anything I can bring you when I come to visit?" Hotch asked. He wanted to ask if Reid was okay but he knew the question would just be answered in an offhand manner. Both of them were really tired of that damned question.

"I'm good," Reid said, looking up at Hotch for the first time. He felt better in control of his emotions and was willing to face him. "You know you don't have to come visit me. Stay at home with Jack. He needs a little normalcy in his life right now."

"So do you," Hotch stated, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I will. Once they let me out of here," Reid stated with a lop-sided grin on his face.

Heaving a sigh from the tips of his toes, Hotch placed his hand on his bag. He could hear the orderly coming down the hall with a wheel chair. They were running out of time. They were about to take him down to be discharged. It was in the middle of the day otherwise his team would be there to help him home. Hotch had strictly forbid them to leave work to be here for him. The biggest reason for that was that he didn't want any pomp and ceremony around his leaving while Reid was still trapped in the damned place.

"I will come to visit you," Hotch stated. "Jack wants to make sure you're all right."

"Seriously, Hotch, stay home with your son. With any luck they will be letting me out of here in a few days. Take the time off you have to heal. We'll be back on the job soon enough," Reid insisted. Despite the brace and the catheter he was feeling stronger, more like himself. As much as he hated to admit that separating from Hotch was causing him anxiety, he knew he could handle it.

"If you're not released in three days I'll bring Jack. No arguing," Hotch said as the orderly pushed the wheel chair in. Turning his attention to the man in the white clothes, Hotch had to ask. "Is that really necessary?"

"Depends," the man answered, a weary smile on his face. "Do you really want to leave?"

"Okay, okay," Hotch said, giving in. Prolonging the process wasn't going to make it any better. Standing up, he headed to the chair and sank into it, his duffle on his lap. As he was pushed past Reid, he couldn't keep from resting a reassuring hand on his knee. "I'll see you soon."

"Of course you will. Say hi to Jack for him," Reid said as he watched the older agent leave the room. For a split second the room seemed so much bigger and lonelier than Reid could ever remember being. Squashing the emotion, Reid moved over to his had shown him the exercises he needed to do to strengthen his hips and keep his legs in shape. If he was going to get out of here, he had to keep doing them. Settling on the bed, Reid began to follow her instructions to the letter. He had no trouble remembering them after all.

OOOOO

That night Reid lay in his bed trying to keep from whimpering. His pelvis was burning like the unsub had just damaged it. Now the cautions Daisy had given him earlier in the afternoon made a little more sense. In his anxiety to get out of the hospital, he'd pushed it too hard. His body was letting him know he'd overdone it. Damn.

Shifting slightly in his bed to relieve some of the pain, Reid found it only created new, sharper pain. Sucking breath between clenched teeth, Reid finished the movement. The pain was something he could handle. The one upside was that the catheter no longer bothered him. A wry chuckle broke through as tears collected in the corners of Reid's eyes.

In the low light of the room Reid eyed the call button. He really should push the damn thing and let them know he was this uncomfortable. Staring at it some more though, Reid changed his mind. While they could give him some extra strength Tylenol and Ibuprofen he didn't think either drug would touch the pain he was in. He didn't want them to threaten to give him anything stronger. By now the doctor and nurses knew better, that he would refuse it but at the moment he wasn't sure if they offered it that he would. Gasping as a particularly sharp stab of pain shot through him, Reid curled up on his side as best as the brace and catheter would let him.

Visions of their in time the cave floated through Reid's mind as it wandered, trying to get away from the pain. If anything, the memories only made it worse. Maybe he could ask for something to help him sleep. It was an entertaining thought for about five seconds. No. That wasn't an option either. Gritting his teeth a little harder, Reid prepared to spend a particularly miserable night.

While he lay there, Reid ran through all possible options. He could simply have strained underused muscles that were now causing his discomfort. There was also the possibility that he had somehow managed while doing his low impact exercises to damage the surgery done to the hip bones. Not a likely option. The exercises had been too low impact. There was nothing he had done that should have caused structural damage to his pelvis.

Other options played through his mind but Reid chose to ignore them. They were becoming increasingly unlikely and he didn't want to think about the possible ramifications if they were in fact what had happened. He had to admit to himself though that some of them would require that he let the medical personnel know. That brought him to considering when he would have to tell them.

The one scenario in which Reid decided he would call for help was if the fluid passing through his catheter turned red. That would mean internal haemorrhaging, bleeding of some kind. That was something he wouldn't be able to just grin and bear. That would require skills that were outside of his personal skill set. Satisfied that he'd made a sound, logical decision, Reid allowed his eyes to close. Maybe, just maybe he'd actually get some sleep if he kept them closed.

That wasn't to be.

Sometime after two am Reid heard the door to his room quietly swing open. Keeping his eyes closed, the young profiler recognized the soft tread of Peter. The nurse was on the midnight shift today. Reid felt the man checking his tubes and the readouts on the computer screen that held his heard beat, blood pressure, etc. Finished, he moved to the foot of the bed and wrote information on Reid's chart.

"Having trouble sleeping?" Peter asked as he moved beside Reid's bed. Despite the agent's best efforts he was always able to tell when his patients were faking it. He could also see by the slight rise in the man's blood pressure that he was suffering some form of discomfort.

For a split second Reid considered continuing to pretend that he was sleeping. Realizing how silly that would be, Reid opened his eyes and oh so gently rolled over onto his back. His body had started to complain about that position anyway. "Yeah," Reid admitted.

"There are non-narcotic sleep aids that I can give you," Peter stated. He'd finished with the chart and returned it to the foot of Reid's bed.

"I know," Reid responded. The pain was subsiding slightly. At least there were fewer episodes of sharp pains. Reid was grateful for that. His body and mind were becoming numb to the low intensity burning.

"You've been through a lot agent. You don't have to do this alone. Let me get something. It'll just make you drowsy," Peter said. "You have another busy day tomorrow with physical therapy."

The thought of Daisy's ebullient nature was what broke Reid. The woman was cheerful to the point of being painful to be around. If he was tired AND sore, there was no way he could survive another two hours of her company. Sighing, he looked at the man. "Okay. The mildest one you have."

"Sure thing, doc. Just give me a minute." With that Peter exited the room.

Before Reid had the chance to change his mind Peter was back with a paper cup with a single pill in its confines. He also had a cool bottle of water which he cracked open upon handing Reid the cup. After a split second of indecision, Reid popped the pill into his mouth and accepted the bottle. Several mouthfuls later, he handed it back.

"I'll leave this here in case you need it. I'll check in on you in a few hours. Have a good sleep, Dr. Reid," Peter said as he slipped back out of the room. He'd placed the water bottle on the nightstand before leaving.

Reid wasn't sure if he felt like he'd given up or if he'd made the right decision. While he was contemplated the various sides of the argument sleep stole over him.

OOOOO

"Good morning!" Daisy called as she stuck her head into Reid's room. It was early, about 8:30am, but Reid was all ready washed and changed into new top and pants. They'd tried to make him wear the stupid gowns but after the third day he'd bulked. The sponge baths were bad enough. At least today Peter had done it and not one of the female nurses.

"Hi Daisy," Reid said. He'd slept about four hours. While not a full night's sleep it had certainly helped Reid have a better outlook on the day than he would have otherwise had. The sleep had also helped the pain in his pelvis. Now he could tell that it was in fact sore muscles and nothing more serious. Seeing Daisy, however, he was immediately concerned that he might not be able to do what she was going to ask him to.

"How are you feeling today?" Daisy asked as she shouldered the door open and pushed a wheel chair in before her.

"Just dandy," Reid responded. He didn't mean for it to come out quite as sarcastically as it did but the woman didn't seem to notice.

"Are you ready for a new level of physical therapy?" Daisy asked. Her bright smile never dimmed as she turned to face the young agent.

"Ahh," Reid started as he considered the discomfort he was all ready in.

"Good! I have fun things planned for you today," Daisy said. Moving over to Reid she gently helped the young man sit up and climb out of his bed.

"Are we going somewhere?" Reid asked as she directed him carefully to the wheel chair. This was the first time he'd been taken out of the room since getting here. He had to admit that he was looking forward to seeing some new faces.

"Yup. Just hold on. You'll see when we get there," Daisy stated as she pushed the chair out of the room.

"Aahh," Reid said, as he rapidly tried to come up with excuses to not go wherever this woman wanted to take him. While he knew she didn't have any intent to hurt him, he wasn't sure he was up for what she had planned.

Moving down the corridor, Daisy waved at some of her coworkers, exchanging pleasantries and small talk. Reid felt like he wasn't really there while he randomly profiled the people they passed. It was a bad habit he wasn't sure he'd ever bother to lose.

At the elevators, Daisy pushed the down button and moved back to wait for the doors to open. "You're going to like this," she said, a mischievous grin replacing the too bright smile.

"Why?" Reid asked.

"You'll see," Daisy responded.

Reid couldn't be bothered to keep up a steady stream of small talk. It wasn't something that came naturally to him and he doubted the woman wanted to hear the numerous facts that were running through his head about the average number of infections caught in hospitals and other fascinating things. The door opened and Daisy pushed him inside. After pushing a button she waited for the doors to open again.

For the first time since Reid had met the woman she seemed quite content to stay quiet. It was unnerving.

Within minutes she pushed Reid into the radiological department. The tech there helped Reid onto the cold x-ray table and began instructing him on how to lie while he snapped four different shots.

"When can you look at those, Hank?" Daisy asked once the man was done and Reid back in his chair.

"Just give me a few minutes Daisy. I'll be able to tell you what you need to know even before the doctor checks the films out," Hank, the tech, said.

"What do you need to know?" Reid asked as the man left the room, four x-ray plates under his arm.

"That would ruin the surprise," Daisy responded, the grin back on her face.

"I hate surprises," Reid muttered as he sank a little more into the chair. Despite the jostling he'd just experienced the pain in his pelvis was no better or worse. Maybe things were looking up for the rest of the day.

"Okay, fine. They're trying to decide if you've healed enough to get the catheter out and to start trying to walk. All the exercises in the world aren't going to improve your muscle tone until you start walking around," Daisy said. She knew intuitively how much the young man hated the catheter. She could see it in how he moved while trying to do his exercises. The way he twisted, trying to prevent any movement to the piece of plastic was causing him to not do the exercises properly. She was amazed he hadn't managed to injure himself so far.

"Really?" Reid asked, hope flaming to the surface.

"Yes. Hank is going to check the x-rays. If he says it looks good we'll go get your catheter out. Your doctor has agreed that it's time. Your swelling has decreased enough that they aren't worried about your urethra closing. The only question is if you put the pressure of walking on your pelvis," Daisy stated.

Reid thought for a split second about kissing the woman. That was the best news he'd heard in too long. If he felt any qualms about whether the technician should be making this judgement Reid squashed them. He wanted to get the catheter out. Reid wanted to start walking again. At this point he was willing to take pretty much anyone's advice if they told him what he wanted to hear.

It was the longest ten minutes of Reid's life. Daisy stood behind him, her hands on the handles of his wheel chair quietly humming while Reid watched people come and go from the waiting room of the radiology department. Every minute or so his eyes would invariably turn to the clock. What was taking so long?

"Daisy?" Hank said as he stepped into the waiting room. Nodding to the woman, he indicated that the two of them should follow him to the less crowded corridor outside the waiting room. "The films look good. I had a quick consult with Dr. Brackett and he said that there should be no reason for Dr. Reid here to start a more intensive physical therapy program, one that includes walking."

"Perfect!" Daisy exclaimed as she looked down at her patient. "Do you feel up to getting that catheter out now?"

"Definitely," Reid responded.

OOOOO

Feeling a sense of new found freedom, Reid revelled in the sensation of not having the catheter snaking into his bladder. The doctor had insisted that there should have only been very mild discomfort with the device but Reid had ignored him. Now he felt like a million bucks as Daisy pushed him to a new location.

"Where are we going now?" Reid asked as he scanned the people they passed in the hallway. There sure were a lot of sick people in this hospital, he mused.

"To the pool. We want to start you out slowly putting weight on your pelvis. The water will help with that," Daisy stated as she pushed him through yet another set of double doors. On the other side of them Reid could feel a distinct increase in humidity and warmth as well as the scent of chlorine.

"I don't have any swimming trunks," Reid stated as they moved along. He hated swimming. It meant wearing too small shorts and no shirt. While his body was perfectly proportionate to his frame, Reid was still very self conscious about the fact that he was considered skinny. He knew there were remarks made among his colleagues about his body size as well as having been terrorized about his size during public school and even college. The only place he was comfortable wearing less than slacks and a button down shirt was in his own apartment. The thought of being virtually naked in front of this woman nearly overwhelmed him.

"That's okay. We aren't going to use any," Daisy said as she pushed Reid's wheel chair through a final set of doors. Inside Reid found a changing area. Daisy laughed when she saw the panic rise in the young man's face. "Oh, no, no, no. We aren't doing this naked, don't worry. We use wet suits. We can't take your brace off and so have to make sure it doesn't get wet."

"How am I going to get into a wet suit?" Reid asked. He was greatly relieved to hear that he wasn't going to be naked or even wearing swimming trunks but he knew that he wasn't mobile enough yet to squirm into such a tight garment. The last thing he wanted was to have Daisy help him.

"Very carefully!" Daisy responded, another mischievous grin erupting on her face. She loved to tease the young man. He turned so red! And it was so damned easy! "No, one of the male therapists will help you."

As if by response a young man appeared from a door at the other end of the change room. He held a wet suit in one hand. It was one of the ones with short sleeves and mid thigh length legs on it. "Thanks Hugh. I'll be out in the pool when you're ready."

"Sure thing Daisy. We'll just be a few minutes," Hugh responded. The man was huge. Reid was immediately intimidated by him in the same way the Morgan intimidated him. Either man could break him in half if they set their minds to it.

"Hello, Dr. Reid. I'm Hugh. Don't worry, this will be painless," Hugh stated as he took over control of the wheel chair and pushed Reid toward an examination bed. It definitely looked more comfortable than one of the wooden benches for Reid to get changed on. Gently, Hugh picked Reid up like he was child and carefully deposited him on the bed. "I'm a professional. I've done this before."

As uncomfortable an experience as it was for Reid, it was finished fairly quickly. Hugh was right, he was a professional. "There you go. Let's get you out to the pool."

Even dressed in the sweat suit Reid felt a little uncomfortable. It was better than swim trunks though. Sitting in the wheel chair Reid allowed himself to be pushed over to the side of the pool. Daisy was all ready in the water, dressed similarly in a wet suit. Grinning when she saw Reid, she moved over to the ramp at the end of pool. "Thanks Hugh. I can take it from here," she said.

"Any time, Daisy," Hugh said as he angled the chair down the ramp.

It was a strange sensation. Reid wasn't sure if it was good or bad but as his body slowly began to rise above the surface of the seat, he felt a sense of relief. It had been a very long time since his body had been anything but horizontal or sitting in a chair. It was wonderful to even pretend to be standing on his own feet.

"Better?" Daisy asked. The wheel chair was at the bottom of the ramp and Daisy was gently pulling Reid toward the middle of the pool. The difference the water made in her patients' recoveries was always an incredible thing to watch.

"Much," Reid responded as he revelled in the feel of being upright.

"Told you were going to enjoy this," Daisy purred. "Let's get on with it."

OOOOO

The sessions in the pool did wonders for Reid. Having the catheter out and the swelling gone was even better. Within days of the two events Reid was moving around on his own with the help of a walker. It was somewhat demoralizing for the agent but it was better than not walking at all.

The other members of his team stopped by regularly, but Reid was still feeling a little isolated. He was used to seeing them every day for eight hours or more. He tried to not be jealous when he heard that Hotch was returning to work. The senior agent wasn't being allowed in the field until his recovery was complete but at least he could work from his desk and from Garcia's computer room when the team was on the road.

In comparison Reid was feeling rather useless. Morgan and Rossi brought over files to ask his opinion but otherwise he wasn't directly involved in any of the cases. It was frustrating.

On his third trip around the ward for the day, Reid came upon his doctor talking with Daisy and Peter. The three medical professionals were in deep conversation by the nurses' station.

"Ah, Dr. Reid. We were just discussing you," the doctor stated. He watched the young man make his way toward them. The walker was almost unneeded all ready, the man barely put any weight on it.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Reid asked. The brace was becoming uncomfortable for him. It made going to the bathroom alone a lot more awkward than it needed to be.

"Yes. We think it's time for us to take the brace off. After the x-rays yesterday we feel you have healed well enough that it is no longer necessary. This should help with your mobility as well," the doctor said, a smile on his face.

"When can I go home?" Reid asked. It was the first thought through his mind. He missed his apartment and his books. He missed going to work. Generally he missed life away from the damned hospital.

"We will take the brace off today and see how you progress. Barring any unforeseen complications you should be able to go home tomorrow or the next day."

"That would be wonderful," Reid responded. His first thought was to call Morgan on his cell to tell him the good news. It was what he'd begun doing as soon as Hotch left the hospital. He knew the other agent would tell all the others too.

"You will still have physical therapy sessions until your recovery is complete but you can do that on an out-patient basis," Gloria added. She was always so grateful for her patients when they healed enough to go home. It was why she did this in the first place.

"Anything you say, so long as I get to sleep in my own bed," Spencer stated. It was a dream come true. There had been a few nights when he'd woken up longing for his bed, for his apartment, especially since Hotch had left.

"As soon as you get back into your room I'll come in to remove the brace," Peter said as he carefully turned Reid around, he'd been heading away from his room instead of towards it. He knew what this meant to the man. He'd seen all of the other agents coming and going out of the room.

"Whatever you say," Reid said as he moved as quickly as his body and the walker would allow him.

OOOOO

"Home sweet home," Morgan said as he pushed open Reid's front door to his apartment.

Truer words had never been said. Carefully manoeuvring his crutches through the threshold, Reid felt like the world was finally right. Two steps in and he was only mildly surprised to find the rest of the team anxiously awaiting for him. They yelled 'surprise!' as he cleared the doorway.

Speechless, well, actually unable to speak around the huge lump in his throat, Reid looked around at the happy faces of his team, his friends, his family. Hotch no longer showed any sign of the damage caused by their little adventure. Reid knew with time he too would lose the crutches and would be back doing what he did best.

"Thank you," Reid managed as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. Across one of his book cases was a large handmade banner that said 'Welcome Home' on it. His kitchen table had been hauled into the room and was set up with all kinds of food and drink. Clearly someone had been busy planning. Reid knew intuitively that it had to have been Garcia. She was ever the mother hen.

"Welcome home, Uncle Spencer!" Jack cried as he threw himself bodily at his friend.

"Jack! Be careful!" Hotch cried as he tried to intercept his impulsive child. He was too late and waited with bated breath for the invariable collapse. Instead, Jack stopped just short of Reid and carefully wrapped his arms around the tall man's legs.

"Are you hurt, Uncle Spencer?" Jack asked as he looked up into Reid's down turned face. He was relieved that the child hadn't collided with him as he appeared about to. Seeing that smiling, angelic face staring up at him Reid knew it was finally over. He was home. He was relatively whole and so was Hotch.

"No, Jack. I'm not hurt. I just need a little help walking for a while," Spencer answered. He wanted to kneel down, to talk to Jack at his own level but at the moment that was impossible.

"Here, Reid, sit down," Hotch said as he motioned toward the young man's couch. The trip home had worn the young agent out. Gratefully, he extracted his long legs from Jack's grasp, stopping to ruffle his hair on his way to his couch.

"I think this calls for a toast," Rossi said. Once Reid was settled, he quickly handed around glasses of sparkling wine. Jack got a glass with some 7 up in it. "To family!"

Smiling, all the members of the BAU held up their glasses. "To family!"

"Now let's eat," Emily said.

Plates were filled; chairs from the kitchen were dragged into the room and set up. Accepting a full plate of food from Garcia, Reid looked around his apartment. They were all there. They were all happy. The unsub was dead. Nothing else really mattered. Suddenly famished beyond all imagining, Reid dove into his plate. He had a lot of strength to rebuild.

"How long til he's in the field?" Emily asked J.J. as the two women watched the young profiler demolish his food.

"At this rate? He'll be back in the office by Monday," J.J. responded, grinning behind her glass of wine. It was so good to see the whole team together and relatively healthy.

"I'll bet on that," Emily stated.

"Ten bucks says this Friday he drags his boney ass into work," Garcia said. She'd been listening. Reid was too far away to hear what the women were talking about. It was just as well, he would have blushed bright red and been thoroughly scandalized. Then he would have laid a bet for Thursday. That gave him a whole two days.

"You're on," J.J. said. Laughing out loud, she turned her attention to her own plate of food. This was a party. And they had a lot to be grateful for.

THE END

_Hi. I'm so grateful that all of you have stuck by me. This took a lot longer than I had planned and it still didn't quite turn out how I'd envisioned. I REALLY suck at endings. That's one of the reasons so few of my old stories are finished. _

_I hope you enjoyed it and that it lived up to your expectations. I don't plan on having a sequel like my other stories but who knows. The plot bunnies may reappear. _

_Thank you again to your support. I appreciate it more than I can say!_

_Susanne_


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